Tower of Glass
by kallistra
Summary: AFTER THE DUEL. BOOK II. On the surface, both Ryou Bakura and Seto Kaiba reside within their own towers, haunted by the past and future and untouchable from the outside. Together, will they be able to escape their self-made prisons. IN PROGRESS. R&R Yaoi
1. Turbulence

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you. **

* * *

Seto Kaiba could not believe what he had gotten himself into with Ryo Bakura. He also blamed Mokuba for the situation. After their sudden trip to Egypt, again at Mokuba's urging and therefore his fault, he now had Bakura with him on his private plane because of some passport issue. The idea that he could have absolutely said no did not want to cross Kaiba's mind at the moment. Mokuba was passed out in front of them in his leaned-back seat, snoring without a care in the world. Kaiba had reclined both his and Bakura's seats to better rest, hoping it might have got the other man off his shoulder. When Bakura had fallen asleep next to him, his head had stubbornly decided that apparently Kaiba's shoulder was a pillow.

Now, Kaiba was in another wholly unexpected situation and trying to decide if he should just shove the man off of him or try to get some sleep himself and deal with it when they woke up. After leaning the seats back, Bakura had turned but not in the direction that Kaiba had originally intended with his trick. A pale arm had found its way onto Kaiba's chest, slung there by the unconscious Bakura. Kaiba decided to add Anzu to the blame for his sudden charitable spirit.

He thought back to the scene they had seen in the Nile River in Luxor, Egypt. He could not deny what he had saw was a vision of Anzu and Atemu. It still surprised him that the man he had dueled all those years when they were high-school age had not been Yugi, but an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh. Now, it appeared that Anzu, a woman that had annoyed him on countless occasions and stood up to him, was a part of whatever Egyptian afterlife his former rival resided in. In some ways, it seemed wasteful to him that she had gone to her death because of love. Love was a luxury he could not truly understand.

Remembering the river, he could not help the small smile that came unbidden to his lips. He had felt like a child again. The child he was before Gozaburo did everything he could to destroy him. He smiled at them in the river, splashing like a kid at the pool. Dunking and being dunked underwater. Kaiba idly wondered if the water had been drugged and that was the true reason for the euphoric feeling he had experienced. But, that would not explain the vision he had before being dragged into the water by the green-eyed gaming-rival Otogi.

It was also because of this feeling that he had found himself with the current situation snuggled against him. Kaiba was true to his word, he was not going to give them a free ride home. Let Yugi and his little group of friends find their own way back to Japan. Yugi had the resources. It was not like he was destitute with the long list of trophies and championships he had won in dueling. This cast a slight black tint to his former thoughts, and Kaiba shook his head to clear them.

In the airport, as he and Mokuba were waiting for their plane to refuel, that attention came upon Bakura. His group had been able to easily purchase tickets for their flight home. An expired passport is what prevented the white-haired young man from getting his ticket. Apparently, he was enrolled in university and, like many of them, had to get back in order to sit tests and classes. While the Ishutaru siblings immediately offered Bakura a place to stay, being stuck in Cairo for several weeks could result in him losing his place at the school. Large, fat tears had welled up in his doll, brown eyes as he bemoaned his bad luck.

Mokuba had insisted that they offer him a ride back to Tokyo. It was true, the Kaiba brothers were not bothered by the same restrictions ordinary passengers dealt with. Kaiba was known for going where he wanted, when he wanted. They did not have to deal with passports or wait for a plane to arrive. Still feeling buoyed by the events in the river, it took very little cajoling on Mokuba's part to convince him to let Bakura fly back on their company jet.

His idle thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Bakura began to moan in his sleep. His fingers were splayed out across Kaiba's chest and were digging into his black silk shirt. It was like the younger man was trying to find a handhold from whatever was pursuing him in his sleep. Kaiba was taken aback. He had never dealt with another person having a nightmare before except for Mokuba, but that was different, and Mokuba was lost to the world in his snoring slumber.

Kaiba tried patting that twisting white hand, but it didn't make a difference. Tears were falling from Bakura's eyes and he could feel their hot wetness on his shoulder. What the hell was he supposed to do in a situation like this? If he yelled for Mokuba to wake up, then he'd have an annoyed brother to deal with and probably be told he needed to be nicer again anyway. If he called for help from the staff, then he'd have all the maids wagging their tongues when they got back home.

He did the next thing he could think of, he pressed a button that caused the armrest between them to drop down into the seat. This allowed him to free his arm from being pinned in the middle and slide it under Bakura. Kaiba could feel the pale-haired man's pulse just under the surface of his translucent skin. His hand made it on the other side of him, and Kaiba pulled him closer. Bakura responded to the movement with his head falling onto Kaiba's chest, just over his heart, and his hand that had been there before snaked its way around the dark-haired man's side to cling to him.

"Ngh..." Bakura moaned in his sleep.

Still unsure of what he should be doing to calm the man currently laying upon him like a lost puppy, Kaiba hesitantly patted Bakura's back. The other man dug his hands into his shirt and clutched at him with those pale, spidery fingers. He began to thrash against him, and a deep shaking emanated from this man's core. He was obviously having a terrible nightmare. Didn't he say something about avoiding sleep as much as possible when they were in the Luxor apartment? Kaiba tried to remember, but the memory floated away just as quickly as it came.

Shaking him slightly with his free hand, Kaiba sharply whispered, "Bakura, wake up!"

No effect. Whatever it was that was chasing Bakura had a grip on him. Kaiba sighed. He was annoyed by this entire situation. He could only imagine what a tabloid would do to him if someone caught a photograph of this. Glancing around, he made sure that no one else was in the cabin with them. He had already been blackmailed for other photographs people had taken of his personal life and they were innocuous compared to what people would assume from this situation.

"Bakura, you need to wake up. You're having a nightmare," Kaiba said as loudly as he dared, still not wanting to wake up Mokuba.

"Please...no...I...I..." Bakura was panting between breaths against Kaiba. "It's not me! It's not me!" He cried out suddenly.

Kaiba raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes displaying concern he didn't normal feel for others. What was going on in this man's mind he kept wondering. He remembered that at one point, Bakura had acted like an entirely different person at times. Right before the first time they went to Egypt, he had kidnapped Mokuba. If he hadn't seen what happened with Yugi with his own eyes, he would have had this white-haired man thrown in jail for the rest of his existence. Yugi had been insistent that what Bakura had done had not been the work of the true Ryou Bakura.

Pulling Bakura's hair back from his sweaty face, Kaiba looked around furtively once more before continuing. This was so out of character for himself he thought as he pulled the unconscious, nightmare-driven Bakura further up against him. He brought his lips close against Bakura's small ear.

"It isn't you, and I forgive you," Kaiba murmured.

His whisper had a sudden effect upon the pale, white-on-white man in his arms. Bakura's breathing normalized and his heartbeat against Kaiba's chest slowed down to a normal rhythm. He fell back into a peaceful slumber with slightly parted lips.

Kaiba stared up at the ceiling of the airplane cabin and sighed. He thought to himself at least that seemed to work, but now what was he going to do with the man sleeping on top of him. He could knock him over and claim turbulence. However, what if he went back to sleep again and had another nightmare. It felt weird to have someone asleep on him, his thoughts continued. He remembered that had happened a couple of times in the orphanage with Mokuba, but they were children then. With those he slept with, usually he just had them leave after he was finished. People sleeping on him like an innocent child were not part of a normal day for the young executive.

On the other hand, it felt kind of nice to have someone seemingly under his whim and trust. It had been a long time since Mokuba had looked up to him. These days, his younger brother was now a high-school student and well on his way to becoming a very suitable vice-president to their corporation. There was one major difference between the two that annoyed Kaiba to no end. Mokuba was always insisting on helping others. Maybe this was the feeling he got from it. This sensation of being utterly relied upon to supply a need.

Trying to get more comfortable, Kaiba tried to carefully adjust Bakura so he wouldn't fall over. As he inched up in his seat, his phone began to vibrate. A message was coming in. His phone was set to only react for the most urgent of messages. Kaiba straightened up too quickly and Bakura tumbled off of him. He heard the thump of the other man as he landed while he was switching his phone on.

"Mushi, mushi?" He snapped into the small phone.

Bakura awoke when he landed on the floor of the plane. He remembered he had been having another nightmare. The ones where he could remember the things the evil spirit within did while in control of his physical being. No one knew that he could remember these things. No one ever could know. If they knew, would they think he went along with those things willingly. Sometimes he wasn't sure if he did or not. There was always this darkness when he would lose himself.

Hearing Kaiba talking on the phone, Bakura turned and looked up sharply at the brunette. He could feel cold fear wrapping itself around his heart and choking him. He wondered if Kaiba had been awake while he was dreaming and if he had said anything to him. Bakura's parents had stated that he was a bother with his night-terrors and that they could hear him screaming all night. Had he embarrassed himself in front of the infamously cold Seto Kaiba?

"I see. Yes. I'll deal with it when I return to Tokyo. About six more hours." Kaiba was annoyed. The fools he had left behind could hardly deal with day-to-day business, much less the important issues of rivals when they came up. He could feel the frown resettling itself upon his lips.

Bakura watched as Kaiba's expression turned darker. He could tell that whatever conversation was it that just passed had not been a good one. Fiddling with his fingers, he tried not to draw any attention to himself but he had to ask him what he heard. Bakura was petrified that Kaiba might have heard something from him in his sleep.

Clicking the phone shut, Kaiba fumed over the imbeciles and salarymen under him. He stared forward and could feel his muscles tensing as he thought over what he would have to do when he returned to Tokyo. During the course of the call, he had completely forgotten about Bakura who was still at his feet.

"Uh..." Bakura started to say, almost nervous to interrupt Kaiba when he looked like he was ready to either fire someone or murder them and right now it was hard to tell which. He swallowed as he felt those dark blue eyes fall on him, their icy fire suddenly and completely focused on him.

Kaiba waited for Bakura to speak up. He could see the fear in the large brown eyes staring up at him. "Yes?" He asked.

Looking down at his hands, Bakura took a deep breath and asked Kaiba, "Did I say anything while I was asleep?"

Bakura did not see Kaiba's eyes slightly widen, and the brunette turned away to look out the window. "No," he simply replied.

Feeling the bruise that was forming on his buttocks, Bakura ventured another question before his courage fled him. He looked up at Kaiba through his snowy lashes, catching the stoic profile of him from below.

"How did I end up on the floor?"

Kaiba closed his eyes and said, "Turbulence."


	2. Dead to Them

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.  
**

* * *

Bakura sat on the floor of the plane, looking up at Kaiba. The other man had retreated to his laptop and was currently ignoring him. Unconsciously rubbing his easily bruised flesh, he stood up and sat back next to him. He couldn't help his furtive glances toward the brunette. Bakura felt a strange attraction to the man that owned the Duel Monsters gaming in Japan. He had felt it when he was on the plane to Egypt.

Sighing, Bakura tried to turn his attention away from those hooded blue eyes and stare out the window at the sky outside the plane. He felt restless. He never cared for airplanes that much. On one hand, it was exciting to travel to places unknown, but on the other to be trapped and reliant on a steel tube to get you there was an entirely different feeling. The trapped sensation reminded him of his blackouts when he was possessed by the evil memories of his past life and the dark god Zorc.

The source of his nightmares and deepest fears were those memories that had slowly been returning to him. It was also a source of contention with his family. He would wake up screaming in the middle of the night most occasions. After many frayed nerves and arguments, he gave up trying to sleep at night and instead would do so during the day when no one was around. That helped until he would run himself to exhaustion with the naps.

His grades suffered as a result of the lack of sleep and created another argument point. The constant moving around because of his unknown actions with the miniatures with schoolchildren when he was a teenager and not becoming less of a nuisance as a young man had strained the relationship between son and paternal family. His grandmother and father, especially his father, would express their disappointment in a myriad of ways. He was sure they were displeased with his sudden jaunting off to Egypt the last couple of days. Bakura did not know what he would experience when he came home. Hopefully, it would not be too difficult.

He yearned to talk to Kaiba about his concerns, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to him because he found him intriguing or attractive. There had always been something so fascinating about Kaiba's strength. If he could be strong like Kaiba, then he would not have anything to fear. Then, perhaps, his family would no longer be angry with him as often, and he would be more successful in life. He was studying computer systems and wanted to design the games that he so loved, but some days he wasn't sure if that would be his future. Other days, he thought he had no future.

Bakura sighed at his reflection in the glass of the window. He was barely more than a reflection himself. A faint appearance of white hair on white flesh, pale and colorless except for his walnut brown eyes. In the image of himself, they appeared to be black holes in a porcelain doll's face. He saw his own lips frown, and his eyes shifted to Kaiba's profile behind him. He was a painting of colors and life, opposite of the pale colors of death that he felt himself represented. Dark, blue eyes flashed in annoyance at whatever he was looking at on his laptop, the locks of dark brown hair that just brushed his lashes, and the hard set of his chiseled lips upon the image of warm-colored flesh. Bakura wondered if his skin was always warm and if his blood ran hot beneath the surface. It would be so unlike his cool flesh and colder blood.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Bakura curled his feet underneath his legs and crossed his arms on his chest, tucking his chin. He felt like a small bird trying to escape a predator. His stomach was bothering him as he tried not to think about what would happen when they landed. He knew that he was a blip on Kaiba's map, and that he would probably never see him again. Possibly, he might see his younger brother Mokuba around, but his eyes would probably pass over him. Bakura felt that he was easily forgettable. In a few hours, he would return to the hard eyes of his family and the nervous eyes of his classmates at the university. In a few hours, he would be mostly alone again except for the occasional call from Jonouchi or Yugi.

Closing his eyes, Bakura thought it might be safe to take a nap. The lulling sound of the plane was starting to make him sleepy, and his heavy thoughts were not helping to improve his mood. Exhaustion set into his limbs. Foggy sleep overtook him, and he tried to relax while ignoring the white-hot heat that was the nova of a man behind him. His last thoughts as he fell asleep were that it would be nice if somehow they could continue to be around each other.

A hand was shaking his shoulder. He could hear a voice calling him, but for the first time in a long time, he found himself caught in a pleasant dream and he did not want to leave it.

"Bakura! Wake up, Bakura."

Mumbling, he tossed his arm over his face.

"Seto, he's not waking up," the voice said.

"Then leave him on the plane, he can go to where ever we send it next."

"Wait... wait... I'm waking up," Bakura called out as he sat up in his chair, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Kaiba said sardonically.

Bakura grinned sheepishly, "Sorry, I don't get much restful sleep."

"Well, come on. We're back in Tokyo."

Mokuba waved Bakura over to him and led him to where they had stowed their bags for the return trip.

"What are you going to do about your passport?" Mokuba asked him.

"I'll have to go to the agency to check on how I can renew it. Hopefully, its not too late to fix this. I can't really afford to purchase a new one."

Mokuba nodded as he tossed Bakura his red duffel bag. "I guess it is odd. I've never really thought about those things. I'm pretty sure I have one, but to tell you the truth, I don't know. Others have handled those details for so long that I don't think about it anymore."

"It must be nice not to have to worry about the little things," Bakura replied, giving the wild-haired teen a smile.

Laughing, Mokuba agreed. "It is, but it just means I have more things to think about. Like the company and making sure I'm useful to my brother."

Bakura paused as he hefted his tote over his shoulder. "Your brother must work constantly," he commented.

"I'm afraid he is going to die at his desk from overwork. He never stops. Day and night he works," Mokuba said. "He really needs to relax. He doesn't even take vacation during Golden Week."

"Really? But all of Japan is vacationing during Golden Week it seems."

"I know! I beg him to take time off, but usually there is some emergency he have to address. I can't tell you how many times I've caught him asleep in his chair."

Bakura glanced over his shoulder, catching a look of the topic of their conversation. Kaiba was currently on his phone again. His voice was clipped and angry as he was rapidly explaining something to the person on the other end. In his other hand, he held onto his silver briefcase. He seemed so alive, but to hear as Mokuba said, the man only lived to work.

"Do you need a ride to your house?" Mokuba asked Bakura.

"Oh!" Bakura exclaimed. "You don't... I mean... I... I can find my own way home. I don't want to be a further burden upon you and your brother. You have already helped me so much."

Tossing him a grin, Mokuba replied, "Don't worry about it. We can drop you off at your house on the way to ours."

Kaiba's voice cut through their conversation. "Mokuba, we have to go. I need to get back to the office right away."

"Okay, Brother, but we have to drop Bakura off at his house first."

"What? Since when?" Kaiba asked.

Bakura blushed and looked down at his feet. He felt like he was imposing, and the cold fire in Kaiba's eyes had confirmed it. He could feel the annoyance coming off the tall man in waves, and they were directed at him.

"Stop being a jerk. I offered him a ride back to his house. It will not be a big deal. It's evening, the traffic will be light. Really, you shouldn't be going into the office at this hour anyways," Mokuba countered, steeling his shoulders back against his brother's ire.

Kaiba frowned and his eyes flashed between his brother and their unfortunate guest. He looked like he was about to continue arguing, but instead, he sighed. "Fine, whatever. I don't care. He's your puppy. We'll take him home."

Bakura released the breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt the angry electricity coming off of Kaiba and feared he was going to be struck in the crossfire between the siblings. He could remember years ago when Mokuba would go along with whatever his older brother told him. It seemed as he had grown into a teenager entering manhood, he had a habit of disputing his brother and even stronger opinions on what he felt was right behavior versus Kaiba's viewpoints.

"Let's go," Kaiba finally said as he turned around to stalk out of the plane, his sweeping trench coat tails spreading out behind him.

Mokuba gave Bakura a weak smile. "Don't worry about him. He's always grumpy these days."

Not knowing what to say over the prior exchange, Bakura shrugged as he followed the younger man off the plane and into the waiting limo outside on the tarmac. Overhead, the sky was indigo blue with slashes of vibrant purple. Fine, tendrils of clouds cut through the dark colors and caught the last rays of the fading sun. Their pace was too quick to take a moment to observe the majestic natural beauty overhead.

Instead, it was stone silent in the limo as they coasted outside the airport. Bakura couldn't help noticing the lines of fatigue in Kaiba's face appeared more prominent in the ambient lighting illuminating their sitting area. Mokuba had pulled out a portable game system and was rapidly clicking the buttons as they went. Hearing the soft hum of a mechanical engine, Bakura sharply turned his head to see the glass separator dividing them from the driver descending.

"Where to, Masters Kaiba?" asked the steady tones of the driver.

Kaiba frowned and said nothing.

Mokuba looked up from his game. "Oh, what is your address, Bakura?"

Bakura gave an address that was not too far from the Kaiba Corporation building. He hoped that alleviated some of Kaiba's annoyance over this side trip. The window rose back into place, cutting them off from the driver once again. Mokuba returned to his game, and Bakura sat in uneasy silence with Kaiba as they glided through the streets; passing buildings and tucked in nooks of greenery. Industrialization surrounded them on all sides of the glittering metropolitan city.

Sooner than he realized, they arrived in his familiar neighborhood and Bakura sat up in his seat. He could see the lights on in his house. It was almost like they were welcoming him back home. He smiled slightly until his eyes fell on the pile of items at the street curb. Boxes of clothing were neatly stacked. Clothing that suspiciously looked like his. He desperately thought to himself that his family was simply cleaning the home and that was all. However, the sudden increase in his heartbeat betrayed that thought.

The car came to a controlled stop in front of the boxes, and Bakura heard the click of the doors unlocking. Mokuba looked up and then out the window. His eyes widened. Something felt off about this display of neatly stacked items. He could see under the street lamps gaming figurines in one box from his place in the car.

Bakura swallowed. "I... We're here. I better be going."

He was whiter than usual. Mind racing, Bakura tried to connect the dots of what he was seeing but refusing to give inflection. He could see Mokuba's surprised expression. Kaiba had not looked out the window, sitting in his seat with his eyes closed.

"Bakura, what is going on? Are those your things outside?" Mokuba asked.

Laughing, and hearing the hysterical tone in it, Bakura responded, "Yes, but Grandmother and Father are probably just cleaning out the house of things they do not want in it anymore. Yes, just some house cleaning."

His school books were in another box along with his uniform for the university. This was not good. His family must be very angry with him for going to Egypt. He had not said anything to them. In his rush, he had simply left a note in the kitchen and that he would be back soon. He had included that he was sorry because they were still angry about the first time he had run off to Egypt years ago. Bakura snapped out of his thoughts as the driver opened the door.

"We are here, Masters."

Bakura nodded and exited. Mokuba followed. Kaiba opened his eyes when he felt his brother exit the limo. He noticed the boxes on the street, but they meant nothing to him. He wondered what was going on. They were already significantly delayed by this extra step of generosity. Kaiba saw a older woman with ramrod straight posture and a tightly coiled grey bun approach Bakura and Mokuba.

"Ryou, you are no longer welcome in this home. You are dead to the Bakura family," Bakura's grandmother told him.

Mokuba gasped as Bakura cried out, "Grandmother, please! No! You cannot mean this!"

"Take what you will of these things we have removed from our house. The street sweepers will remove the rest in the morning." She turned and walked away.

Bakura fell to his knees. He could feel the concrete scraping their tender flesh through his thin jeans. Tears welled up in his eyes as the weight of his grandmother's brief words penetrated him. Mokuba was in shock next to him. He had never seen something like this happen before. He had seen plenty of verbal and mental abuse from his adopted father but never had witnessed a severing of family ties such as this. Mokuba ran to the limo.

"Brother! We have to do something!" He exclaimed.

Kaiba took in the scene of Bakura at his knees in front of the remnants of his life. He felt a slight contraction in his heart, but he steeled himself against it. He could not allow himself to develop a bleeding heart. It was one thing to keep the promise he made as child in an orphanage, another to take in strays like Mokuba was trying to do.

"Do what, Mokuba?" Kaiba asked.

"We should help him," Mokuba said, surprise on his face at his brother's callousness.

"Why?"

Gaping at his older brother, he tried to respond but words failed him at the moment.

"Do not be concerned about me," Bakura said. No one could see his expression. It was hidden behind his snowy bangs.

Mokuba turned to face the frail-seeming man. "What are you going to do, Bakura?"

Bakura shrugged. He didn't want them to see the tears and fear in his face, so he kept it hidden behind his hair. He was scared if he continued talking that he would reveal this so he stayed silent.

Kaiba interjected, "Let's go, Mokuba. He'll be fine."

"But..."

"Go with your brother, Mokuba. Just go." Bakura said as he stood up and nudged Mokuba toward the limo. The driver had already dropped his bright red bag next to the stacked boxes. It stood out against the plain brown of the cardboard in the gloomy night.

Mokuba frowned. "I'll come back and check on you. Call me if you need anything. Please!"

Bakura nodded as he watched Mokuba get back into the limo. Within moments, it was pulling away and leaving him standing at the corner next to his entire life. Both of them discarded to the streets by their family. His hands curled into fists as he released the tears he had been holding back. Shoulders shook with the sobs.


	3. Conscience

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.  
**

* * *

"Brother, we have to do something."

Mokuba slammed himself into the fine leather upholstery of the limousine's seats. His indigo-blue eyes angrily flashed at his older brother. A habit picked up in the cram schools Mokuba attended manifested itself as he began to pick at the threads of his tailored shirt cuffs. Kaiba kept his head slightly turned away from his younger sibling, his expression unreadable behind his brown bangs.

"Mokuba, we cannot save everyone. He is an adult; he will be fine," Kaiba replied, his tones clipped and even.

Fuming, the younger man crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to scream at his older brother. When they were in Luxor, it had seemed that Kaiba had grown a heart after witnessing the event of Anzu and Atemu in the Nile. Instead, it apparently had been short-lived and his older brother was back to his stoney countenance.

"Seto, you know, the orphanage that our family left us at was over-crowded and there was not enough room for us. I wonder what would have happened if they had decided to leave us outside that day, so long ago." Mokuba's tone expected no answer, and he thought to himself that it would be good for Kaiba to consider that for a moment.

It was a true statement. When they had been dropped off at the gates to the orphanage all those years ago, there had not been enough room to add two more children. They were still taken in and given shelter, food, and clothing. A life devoid of physical riches, but rich in other ways. It was times like these, when his brother became this cold, cruel man, that Mokuba wish they had never known what life was like as part of the upper-echelons of society. Their adopted father had made sure to crush any remnants of his formerly happy and smiling brother.

Kaiba glanced at Mokuba and frowned. He thought that was fairly low of his younger brother to bring up the orphanage to him. What happened with Bakura and his family was completely different from what happened to him and Mokuba. For him to even attempt to put the two in the same category was asinine.

"Maybe I've missed something lately, Little Brother, but you seem to have this sudden urge to save the world. Is there some sort of problem at school that you have not told me about?" Kaiba attempted to redirect, purposely not mentioning Bakura's name.

"No, there is nothing wrong at school. I just seem to have a cold-hearted brother who has forgotten where we came from and what we had to overcome," Mokuba snapped back.

"Well, I think something is wrong with you. First, you force this half-wit trip to Egypt because of Anzu, who is one of Mutou's friends, then you convince me to fly back one of their friends, and now you want me to save said person from their own fate." Kaiba was annoyed. The past few days had been some of the most annoying he had experienced in a long time. He pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache was threatening him.

Mokuba's eyes widened. "What's wrong with helping others, Seto? Nothing. In fact, maybe you might feel better if you did it a little more often. No, instead, all you're interested in is making profits for the corporation."

Kaiba asked, his voice weary with frustration, "Is that what this is about? My work? The same work you will be entering into?"

"I hope I do not enter it and receive the same attitude that you have. At least one of us needs to be alive," Mokuba snapped back at his brother. He was livid at the older man's attitude of complete disregard for others.

"Mokuba, I work very hard to secure our future and to keep it. If we gave it away to everyone, then we would have nothing. Why can't you understand that?"

"Why can you not understand that there is nothing wrong with compassion and helping others."

"Hmph. You speak the talk of the weak and foolish, Mokuba. Did you learn these attitudes from the school that I pay for?" Kaiba asked this with a slight wave of his hand.

Leaning forward, his words sharp with contempt, Mokuba replied, "Whatever, Big Brother. It doesn't matter to you about anything. Nothing matters to you except what you want."

"You paint me like I'm some heartless man, Mokuba. I'm not. I take care of you, do I not?" This was bothersome. Kaiba could not understand why Mokuba could not understand his position.

"Yeah, but you are missing the point. But whatever. It doesn't matter."

Mokuba turned away from his older brother and flipped his hand-held game back on, ignoring him. He jammed his fingers into it, trying to ignore the gnawing sensation in his stomach. He was worried about Bakura. Every time he had met him, he had seemed so lost and alone. It was like Bakura expected to disappear in the middle of a crowd and no one would notice.

Bakura looked behind him at the brightly lit house that was now barred to him. Before his first trip to Egypt, his father had not paid much attention to him. It was when his grades began to slip at a staggering rate even for Bakura that attention came upon him. In addition, his living account had far exceeded the allotted budget that his father decreed. Apparently, during the blackouts, the spirit within him had enjoyed creating unnecessary expenses that revolved around clothing and food. All these compounded into a reflection upon him that displeased his father. A call was made to his father's mother, and soon, the old woman had moved into the house and her strict ways were fostered upon Bakura.

Grandmother did not have time to deal with what she termed an ungrateful child that persisted in living within fantasies. His collection of Monster World figurines had caused her to raise those elegant eyebrows in perpetual annoyance until he had been forced to take them down from his shelf. Soon, all of his hobbies and likes had been hidden under the veneer of her view of proper Japanese household settings. Even the letters to his deceased younger sister, Amane, had to be hidden from those dark and cruel eyes.

His fingertips caressed one such bundle of letters. They were neatly tied with a bit of rough twine and on the topmost one was a return mark for unknown address. Childish handwriting had carefully written out Amane's name and that it was to be delivered to the underworld. Bakura sighed as he remembered how he kept sending them from every location that he and his father went to for his various museum stints. Most of the letters would always return to whichever home he was occupying. Some of them didn't. Perhaps the result of a kindhearted postal worker not wanting to hurt his feelings. No one ever dared to write a response.

Feeling concerned that a few of the most important things would still be in the house, Bakura began to search until he found a carefully wrapped, green leather journal. Removing the paper wrappings, he opened it to the first page. Pressed and sealed, a daisy had been preserved inside. The papery, white petals were yellowed with age, and the bright xanthous florets were dried into small specks upon the center. Satisfied that this treasure was safe, he closed and wrapped the journal, reverently replacing it back into the box. In hanakotoba, the daisy was a symbol of faith, and at this moment, Bakura felt he needed a little more. It was also the flower that his sister was holding when she died.

"Amane... I wish your brother had better news for you. It seems that it will be harder to write to you. I wish... I wish I was like the sorcerers and knights, I could have saved you and I could save myself right now. Maybe, none of the bad things would have happened if I was more than just Bakura."

Bakura knelt on the ground and opened the red bag he had from the airport. He pulled out most of the contents and packed it with the journal and letter bundles. He then gathered a few of the figurines that he loved the most and added those to the contents. Schoolbooks for his current classes were tied together and set next to the duffel. In minutes, he had gathered what he felt were the most important pieces of his world. Sighing, he realized that he would have to leave everything else behind.

Turning from his home, he began to walk down the neighborhood street. Houses were close together, and there were no yards. If a family was affluent enough, they might have a small enclosed garden and a tree of their own. Bakura knew that there was a park not too far away from here. This was where he was walking toward. He had heard that a few homeless people stayed there at night.

He thought about what he would do when the weather became colder. It was early fall, and the nights were still warm enough that it would almost be like going on an extended camping trip. However, where would he go when it became cold. He tried to recall if there was any places the homeless went when it snowed. Bakura hoped that someone would help him when the time came.

His books slipped from his hand and landed onto the sidewalk with a soft thud. The binding came undone, causing them to fall in a haphazard pile. Bakura worked quickly to stack and tie them again. Another thought intruded his mind. He was not sure what he was going to do about his schooling. The current term was already paid, but his education was not fully complete. Bakura hoped that the school might be able to help him with this. He figured he would have to find some employment.

Adjusting the bundles he had, he continued walking the down the street. It was when a car was nearly upon that he realized one had approached. Bakura shielded his eyes from the headlamps as he shrank toward the wall surrounding a house next to him. His heart began to beat rapidly in his chest. He felt completely alone and at the mercy of the outside world. Bakura tried to hide himself behind the small bush next to him. The attempt would have been hilarious in any other circumstance.

When they arrived at their house, Mokuba had raced out of the limousine without another word. Kaiba watched as he raced up the steps and burst through the front doors, pass the staff that was waiting for their arrival. Since their argument, his younger brother had completely ignored him and sat in sullen silence playing at one of his games. Kaiba followed at a more sedate pace as he directed staff to remove their luggage and take it inside.

As he entered the grand double-doors of his residence, Kaiba took a long look at the fine furnishings surrounding him, the silent staff who carefully tended to his needs, and the fact that he was not alone in the dark on a street in the city. He remembered what Mokuba had said earlier about what would have happened to them if they had been left outside. By nature, Kaiba detested when anyone tried to tell him what to do and that was why he and his brother butted against one another so often, but in this instance, he was feeling that maybe he was being too hasty and harsh on the white-haired man they had left alone not even an hour ago.

Muttering to himself, Kaiba said, "I'm going to regret this."

Turning around and exiting back the way he came, he stopped in front of a butler just inside the entrance.

"Get me a car and driver, now!" Kaiba barked to the man.

Long trained to react immediately to any and all orders from him, the man sprang into action and picked up a phone, speaking quickly. Kaiba ignored this and was already briskly walking through the front door and across the landscaped, brightly lit path toward the garages. When he entered, a town car was awaiting him with his night driver behind the wheel.

"Where to, Master Kaiba?" asked the driver when Kaiba slipped into the backseat.

Frowning as he thought, Kaiba could not recall the address. He instead said, "Contact the driver from earlier. Mokuba and I dropped off a passenger. I want to go to that address."

While the driver made the call, Kaiba kept telling himself he was going back only to confirm that Bakura was fine and that Mokuba was acting the mother hen with all his worries. He ignored the little voice inside of him that was also worried about the white-haired man and what could happen to him on the street.


	4. Familiar Interference

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.  
**

* * *

Staying close to the wall, Bakura watched as the vehicle slowed and then continued on its way. The low purr of the motor faded into the night. Once he could no longer hear it, he breathed a sigh of relief and his heart stopped hammering in his chest. He desperately thought to himself that he needed to find shelter in the park quickly. There were stories of deaths on the streets of Tokyo that were never investigated.

He kept his head low and watched his sneakered feet quickly walk over the sidewalk. He had an odd habit of refusing to step on cracks, feeling it was bad luck, and would side-step as necessary to avoid the spidery lines in the concrete. After ten minutes, he found his feet stepping on packed earth. Looking up from his feet, he could see the elegant wrought iron arch that marked the entrance to the small park.

As he entered, the sounds of the city faded behind him and were replaced by chilly silence. Bakura readjusted his duffel on his shoulder. He looked around for a suitable place to spend the night. On all outward appearances, the park seemed completely deserted of any one else. He didn't smile, but it was a comfort.

Up ahead on the path, there was a bench that looked suitable for a sleeping place. Bakura made his way to the simple wood and iron seating area, sitting down with a sigh. He pushed his duffel up against one end of the bench and laid his head upon it, looking up into the trees over him. His books rested on his stomach. He tried to snuff out the thoughts of spiders possibly dangling overhead of him and descending into his mouth and insects deciding he would be a tasty snack in the night. He forced himself to close his eyes.

Kaiba returned to Bakura's former house. He could see the stacks of boxes still neatly arranged on the curbside, but there was no sight of the white-haired man to be found. Before the driver could exit the vehicle to open his door, Kaiba was already out of the car. He walked around the pieces of this man's life. A man he really knew nothing about.

He looked at the still brightly lit house. It was not yet a late enough hour, though the sun had set some time ago, for people to be abed. Kaiba wondered if Bakura had been able to patch up the situation with the woman he saw that had severed the family relationship. He wanted to believe this because on one level of himself, he did not want to get involved further and he felt like he was being forced into this.

Toeing one of the boxes in front of him, it was then that Kaiba noticed that some had been riffled through. The arrangement of items replaced did not create the same streamlined and neatly packed placement of the others. He frowned to himself and looked back at the seemingly cheery front of the house.

"Master Kaiba, sir?" his driver queried.

Kaiba shook his head. He should not get involved. It was not an outsider's place to question the methods of a family or their decisions with their generations. Mokuba's statement about their childhood came back to him. He remembered their biological family more than Mokuba did.

When he was five, Mokuba was born and Mother died during the birthing. It had been both a sad day and a happy day for him. He had the brother he had always wanted at that time, but he had lost his dearest mother. The memories had faded over time, but he could still remember hazy outlines of a smiling woman who would give him kisses at bedtime.

Father had been devastated by the loss of their Mother, but he carried on and cared for his two young sons as best as he could. He, too, was a giver of hugs and kisses. Although, these were given in the privacy of their home. For all others, he was a proper entrepreneur who provided a nanny and schooling. It was when the nanny was gone for the evening that the board games and cards would come out of the closet and he would play with Kaiba. A couple of years went by, and as Mokuba grew older, they included him in their easier games. A smile ghosted across Kaiba's lips as he remembered these things.

The driver looked at his employer who was silent. "Sir?"

Kaiba waved a hand at the man to be quiet while his thoughts continued. It was when the second tragedy of his life struck that everything was lost. His father had been on a highway coming home from Osaka. Usually, Father took the train when traveling between the cities, but it was Spring and he wanted to drive through the smaller towns in the countryside. Kaiba was eight years old and Mokuba was three. They were given as wards to their father's brother and wife, a greedy pair that cared nothing for the now fatherless children. A year later, they were left at an orphanage and Kaiba swore he would never associate with them again. He knew his family name. Mokuba was too young to remember. He never told anyone what it was.

"Why does it seem that our families will be the ones to betray us first?" Kaiba questioned aloud.

His driver, a clean-cut man not used to candid talk from his employer, gaped at the statement. He swallowed and tried to choose his answer carefully, he did not want to offend Master Kaiba. "I do not know, Master Kaiba. It may depend on many circumstances or it is simply the nature of the family members."

Kaiba nodded at the response. Nature and nurture. In nature, if a cub was considered a burden upon the pack, it was killed. This was accepted. There were no tears or desires by the others to save it. However, if humans were supposed to be transcendent to animals, why could they just as easily and totally destroy one another. No, nature did it more cleanly than humans did. A cub's quick death did not leave them behind clutching a broken toy that would never be repaired; a symbol of their now broken heart.

"I'm going up to the house. Stand by these boxes and make sure they remain unmolested."

He did not wait for a response as he strode up to the front door. The line of his shoulders was perfectly straight as he prepared to interfere in this family's private matter. His knuckles rapped sharply at the wooden door when he stepped upon the threshold. After a few moments, the same woman opened the door. Around her eyes, there were heavy wrinkles that were not visible from a distance and her hair was peppered with gray streaks. She was wearing a heavily starched, deep red dress with a long-sleeved jacket and gold-tone buttons.

"Yes?" Her voice was crisp with a slight tone of annoyance. Behind her, Kaiba could see that dinner was set for one.

"Madame," Kaiba said, trying to be polite, "Forgive my intrusion regarding your family, but I feel that a mistake might have been made. Wouldn't you agree?"

She snorted but kept her poise, even though her eyes flashed with anger. Regardless of Kaiba not mentioning the full subject, she knew immediately what he was discussing. "One's family rules will differ from another family's. I'm sure you can agree."

"Yes, I can agree, Madame, but cannot mistakes committed by children be forgiven by their elders. Is it not the duty of the elder to lead and not throw away?"

"Yes, but is it not the duty of the child to the elder to obey?" She countered him.

He frowned as he tried to think of a suitable response. One did not just order a stranger, an elder for that matter, like a servant. If he did so, it would shut her off to him completely. For all his roughness with Mutou and his group, he was well-bred and aware of the rules of society. It was that in most cases, he choose to ignore them until he needed them.

"Young man, if that is all, my miso will be cold if I tarry longer." She drew his attention back out of his thoughts.

He glanced over his shoulder behind him at the boxes stacked at the curb. "What of the items at your curbside? What do you intend for their purpose?"

Bakura's grandmother shrugged. "They are there to be disposed of by the street sweeper. I care not what happens to them."

The subtle implications of her words struck him. He tried one last approach, remembering Bakura saying 'Grandmother and Father'. "Would your son approve of these being removed from the home?"

"My son obeys me in all things as a good son should. He discovered years ago that my wisdom exceeds his own. If the younger generation refuses to obey their elders, then they are lost to them." Her lips were a tight line.

She would not be swayed by him. Kaiba knew this. He inclined his head, indicating he was done with the conversation. She wished him good health and closed the door. He had a feeling when she told him sayounara, she meant it completely.

He walked down the path back to the boxes of Bakura's life. He kept telling himself he should not get involved in this. Mokuba was just being a teenager that wanted to save the world. Kaiba was pass those ideologies. He had already done enough by trying to talk to the old woman that had kicked Bakura out of his house.

"Load these boxes into the car." Kaiba ordered his driver as he sat back down inside the car. He heard the subtle click of the trunk release.

Leaning his chin on his loosely closed hand, Kaiba looked at the dark street ahead of him. He wondered where Bakura had gone for the night, and if he would be able to find him. A ironic thought slipped in that this should please Mokuba. He would have to make Bakura Mokuba's responsibility.

His driver slipped into the driver's seat. "Master Kaiba, the items from the street curb are loaded. What would you like to do next?"

Kaiba looked at the small pools of light partially illuminating the sidewalks along the street. Occasional cars meandered along the avenue. Most were on their way to other houses and some appeared to be driving through.

"Drive along the road at a sedate pace. I am looking for a park or enclosure. Somewhere someone would go if they were looking for shelter."

Bakura kept his eyes closed. He could feel a fresh wave of the salty tears behind his lids, and they fell down along the sides of his face. It was going to be a long night. A bit ago more people had entered the park. He presumed they were homeless like himself. He could hear raucous laughter and angry arguments breaking out around him. Thus far, no one had come near him but he wasn't sure how long that would last. His respite was shorter than he anticipated.

"Shiro, some kid is on your bench," a rough worker's voice called out, not far from where Bakura was situated.

Bakura's eyes snapped open. Over him, he could see the dark on dark landscape of leaves on the night sky. He sat up and tried to locate the originator of the voice he heard. A man who had seen better times was standing at his feet pointing at him. Bakura could smell cheap beer emanating from him.

Scrabbling himself up, Bakura attempted a smile and apology. "Sorry. I can move. Just give me a moment."

Shiro had arrived just as Bakura spoke and he was just as rough seeming as the other one. However, Shiro was bulkier than his counterpart. Bakura's eyes flickered between the two now on either side of him and held his hands outward, palm side up.

"I'm very sorry. I am moving away from the bench now," he said again.

Grunting at Bakura, Shiro turned his back to him. Bakura made a hasty retreat by quickly gathering his things and running down the path leading deeper into the park. He tried to remember how much money he had in his account. Maybe it would be enough to go to a capsule motel or the like. However, he didn't want to spend money that may be severely limited until he could find employment. He wondered if his father might take pity on him.

Tears welled up again in his eyes. He thought to himself he was such an emotional baby as he wiped them away. He began to run along the path. He didn't know what he was trying to run from at that moment, but he had to run. His bag banged against his hip, making it sore in short time. The pathway became a blur of dark brown and green. Bakura didn't see the rock in front of his feet when he tripped on it, sprawling across the ground.

More tears came as he tried to gather his things back to him. Dirt clung to his hands and clothing. It felt like he had no future left for him. No one would want anything to do with him; he was sure of it. Bakura crawled over to a tree and curled into a small ball at the base. He leaned his forehead against his dirty knees.

"Hey, Yuu, look what we have here. Fresh meat."

Bakura looked up from his position to see three young men. They wore mostly clean clothing, but their eyes held a hardness in them that he was not used to seeing. A member of the group held a long piece of metal pole in his hand and was tapping it against his leg.

One with a greasy and lanky hair in need of a trim spoke next, "She's a pretty one, isn't she?"

Coughing, Bakura spoke up, "But I'm not a girl." He lifted his head, and revealed his full face with angular jawline.

"Doesn't matter to me. I can pretend," said the one with the need of a haircut. His companions chuckled as they began to close the distance between them and Bakura.

Bakura felt rising panic in his throat as he stood up. He had nothing to defend against them. All he had with him was the duffel bag and his stack of books. At that moment, a taller, skinnier one had reached him and tried to grab him. Bakura dodged the grab and ducked under his arm to get more space around him. He tried to think of anything he could use around him, but there wasn't anything he could find for defense.

The largest member of the group grinned at him. His teeth were bright white in the darkness. "Why you running away? We just want to be your friends."

This one also made a grab at Bakura and managed to catch the young man's sleeve. Whipping around, Bakura brought his schoolbook bundle to land on the man's head. The hard cover cut a gash in his attacker's forehead.

"Fuck! Masato! He got me!" Big and ugly yelled out.

Masato was the one with the metal pole, and he was stalking toward Bakura. The other two had closed off any exits for him. He didn't want to know what this trio wanted with him. He could guess when they chose to mistake him as a girl. He panted from his exertions and fear.

"Why don't you creeps pick on someone your own size?" The voice was svelte and full of deadly grace. Bakura knew the owner of that voice. It was Kaiba.

Bakura could see his tormentors sizing up the new arrival. Kaiba was still taller than their tallest one by at least four or five centimeters. He currently was lounging against one of the trees along the path. His silvery-white trench coat caught and reflected the faint moonlight above that filtered down through the leafy canopy overhead. Kaiba's icy blue eyes were electric with barely controlled anger. Bakura swallowed nervously, but this time it was not from fear. His stomach, or maybe somewhere lower, burned from a sudden infusion of heat.

From the corner of his eyes, Bakura saw that the trio was hesitating and looking from Kaiba to him again. He could almost see a shimmering aura of danger around the tall brunette. The look in Kaiba's eyes and posture reminded him of when he dueled Yugi's other self. The look that said he would stop at nothing to win.

It seemed the wannabe gang of antagonists were reconsidering their tactic. It was one thing to pick on a effeminate seeming guy, but it was quite another to face someone who appeared to know how how to fight. The slunk back into the shadows without a word or signal, leaving Kaiba and Bakura alone.

"Let's go, Bakura," Kaiba said, his voice still hard, "You're coming with me."


	5. Bound to Home

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.  
**

* * *

Within minutes, the two men exited the park. The homeless had retreated at Kaiba's passing; Bakura nearly running to keep up with his fast pace. He did not know what was going on, but he was deeply thankful to Kaiba for saving him from the goons. He still felt fear over what might have had happened if no one had came to save him.

Kaiba, for his part, was fuming. Something in him had snapped when he found Bakura crouched and trying to defend himself from three thugs that were bigger and stronger than he was. Kaiba had witnessed enough to know they had assumed Bakura was a woman and that they didn't care that they were incorrect. As he thought more about it, the tighter his fist clinched itself. He knew what they intended to do.

Bakura stopped up short when Kaiba approached a town car where a well-dressed driver was waiting. Kaiba sensed that Bakura was no longer behind him and turned.

"Bakura, I can leave you here if you really want, or you can follow me and get in this car."

Kaiba's features told the other man that he was still very angry from the encounter in the park. It didn't take a genius to know that going with Kaiba would be Bakura's best bet for survival tonight. He half-ran to catch up with him as the driver opened the backseat door. Kaiba ducked as he entered the vehicle, and Bakura slid into him with his haste not to be left behind.

Lanky, thin and pale arms were entangled in Kaiba's coat and struggled against his body. He heard the door on the other side of Bakura click close and the driver's door open and close. Bakura was trying to untangle himself from his sprawl on Kaiba but seemed to have difficulty getting out of the voluminous fabric.

"Master Kaiba, shall we return home now?" Kaiba's driver asked from the front, heedless of what was occurring in the back.

Ignoring Bakura's movements against him, Kaiba replied, "Yes, and make it quick."

Turning to address the man twisted against him, Kaiba began to dislodge Bakura from his coat and person. Bakura was apologizing profusely, and it was starting to get on Kaiba's nerves. To get him to stop moving, he grabbed the pale man's wrists in a tight grip with each hand and pulled him straight up next to him. His movements had been too fast, and the result was that Bakura's chest was pressed tightly against his own. Bakura looked up from Kaiba's neck and into those blue eyes that simultaneously had excited and frightened him earlier.

Kaiba was struck by the same feeling he felt when he had happened upon Bakura about to be attacked. Those large doe-brown eyes ringed by white lashes were looking up at him with a similar expression of fear, but this time tinged with something else he couldn't place. Kaiba's lips suddenly felt dry. At that moment, he was reminded of the memory of his past life self and his beloved. She had this same vulnerable look that Bakura currently wore. He felt his hands twitch and tighten on Bakura's birdlike wrists, his thumb caressing bones under the skin. He could feel Bakura's heartbeat and breath quickening against him.

"Kaiba... I... Er..." Bakura spoke up, his voice feathery soft in the space between them.

Eyes widening like he had been struck, Kaiba released his hold on Bakura and turned himself to sit more comfortably in the seat. Bakura dropped his hands to his lap and fiddled with his fingers. A low tremble played along his limbs, but the pale man tried to suppress it. Kaiba tried to ignore what had just happened and focused on why he had returned for Bakura.

"I'm taking you to my home. Mokuba wants to help you and is upset by what happened with your family earlier this evening," Kaiba finally said to him.

Bakura looked down at his hands. A small part of him was actually affected that it was just Mokuba that was concerned for him and Kaiba was only appeasing his younger brother by assisting him. He tried not to think too hard on what that meant.

His voice was almost too soft to hear when he replied and said, "Oh."

They were silent for a moment before Kaiba cleared his throat and spoke again. "I tried to talk to your grandmother. She was unrelenting in her stance." As an afterthought, Kaiba added, "I'm sorry."

Bakura laughed, it was self-depreciating and slightly pitched. "I guess I always knew I would eventually lose all my family."

"What do you mean?" Kaiba was curious in a morbid way that only comes from having experienced the event himself.

Looking out the window and speaking more to his ghostlike reflection than to Kaiba, Bakura said, "My younger sister Amane died in a car accident when I was seven. She was only four years old. Mother followed from an illness two years later."

Kaiba digested this information that Bakura had revealed. He never would have thought he had this past from first glance. While a bit odd, he seemed friendly enough; if a little distant. However, very few knew the truth of the events that occurred in the Kaiba mansion when the public was not watching. Kaiba quickly suppressed the memories of it and refocused his attention.

"Grandmother recently arrived. It was because of my trip to Egypt when..." Bakura's voice trailed off as he remembered both what he was told the dark spirit did and those fragments he was gradually recalling. He could not stop the shiver that shook his entire body.

"Are you alright?" Kaiba asked.

Bakura sighed and turned to look at Kaiba, "Forget I said anything. I am... I am already in your debt for helping me in this and in the park..." he paused and continued, "and for the actions I don't remember."

Kaiba noticed a hooded, flat look had overtaken the vulnerability that had been in Bakura's eyes earlier. He could no longer read the man. He gave him a nod, indicating that he accepted what Bakura asked and that he would not pry further. Considering how he acted earlier in the car, he was fortunate that no questions were being asked about it. He was not quite sure why he had felt caught in the other man's eyes or compelled to keep him so close for that moment. Kaiba thought to himself it was probably just the aftermath of the adrenaline rush he had felt in the park.

Silence was their companion the rest of the trip to Kaiba's home. Bakura watched as the urban landscape gave sway to the suburban vistas of homes with sweeping lawns and elegant gates to keep the world out of their individual paradises. They turned onto an unmarked lane and passed underneath an the most ornate arch he had ever seen. Arriving at the house, the driver stopped the car and exited, going around and opening the back door for them. Bakura left the car and stood there gaping at the expansive estate.

"Unload Bakura's boxes when you get to the garage. By the time you are complete with this, Kioshi will know where you should have them delivered." Kaiba swiftly walked pass Bakura and commanded the driver that was still there.

Bakura blinked and asked Kaiba, "Who is Kioshi?"

"Kioshi is my personal butler and head caretaker of this house."

Surprise and awe were evident in Bakura's features as he took in the opulence of Kaiba's riches. He followed Kaiba up the staircase and through the double-doors where an elderly man stood wearing an immaculate suit. Fine silvery threads made up the characters for the Kaiba family name over his left breast.

"Master Kaiba, the hour is late. Have you dined yet?" The butler's voice was cultured and refined, with the barest hint of a Southern Japanese accent.

Kaiba paused. "No, I have not. Has Mokuba been attended to while I was gone?"

"Yes, the young Master has dined and retired to his rooms." Kioshi glanced at Bakura and returned his steady black-eyed gaze to Kaiba. "Will the guest be staying overnight?"

"Kioshi, this is Ryou Bakura. He will be staying with us on an extended visit. Please ensure a room is prepared for him." Kaiba turned and directed his next words to Bakura. "Have you had anything to eat tonight?"

Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the house and the servants milling about, even at night, Bakura was unable to vocalize his answer. Instead, he shook his head no and looked down at his dirty sneakers. They were still in the genkan portion of the house, and Bakura followed Kaiba's lead as they removed their shoes and stepped into the waiting slippers. Kioshi had left them to initiate the necessary actions to fulfill Kaiba's requests.

"Follow me to the dining room, Bakura. I'm sure you are very hungry," Kaiba said to him.

Bakura felt his stomach grumble and gave a soft chuckle. "Yes, apparently I am. Thank you."

In the dining room, a female staff member was finishing laying out two places on one end of a long table. It was to these that Kaiba led him. Set out was a simple meal of miso, rice, fish, and beef fillet. Taking the offered place, Bakura sat down as Kaiba joined him.

"Itadakimasu," both men said together and then they got down to the business of eating the late meal.

Bakura smiled as he ate another piece of meat. "This is delicious. The fillet is also one of my favorites."

"It happens to be one of my favorite dishes. Almost all meals here tend to have my favorites incorporated," Kaiba was feeling a bit more relaxed. He sipped at the provided wine, and its warmth suffused throughout his body.

"Oh, my most favorite food in the entire world is the cream puff," Bakura smiled as he flipped his chopsticks around to pick up more of the fish for his plate.

"Cream puffs? Really?" Kaiba raised his eyebrow.

Laughing, Bakura felt himself relaxing more and the irony of the day was not lost to him. "Isn't it funny?" He commented, changing the subject. "This afternoon I was flying back from Egypt, became homeless and family-less, and now I'm here in the Kaiba mansion sharing a delicious meal with one of the most important men in Tokyo."

Kaiba gave him a light shrug. "It is a series of strange events to have in one day. I suppose the entire trip to Egypt was somewhat surreal."

They grew silent, each thinking of the trip they had experienced together. They said little else while they finished their meal. Drinks were refilled as needed by one of the staff, and when they finished their food, another person cleared away the porcelain.

Both men turned to the staff and inclined their heads as they said, "Gochisosama deshita."

Kioshi entered the dining room and approached them. "Master Kaiba, the room has been prepared for Master Bakura. Because of the current renovations in the guest quarter, he has been placed in the family quarter."

Kaiba stood up and Bakura followed him. They both followed Kioshi out of the dining area and ascended the large, curving staircase he had seen when he first entered the house. Fine artwork and statuettes tastefully decorated the landing and hallway. Bakura wanted to touch them, but he had a feeling that Kioshi would stop him.

"Here we are, sirs. Master Bakura, this is the door to your room," Kioshi said when they reached a room near the end of the hall.

"My room is next to yours, and across from you is Mokuba's room. I'm sure he'll be thrilled when he sees you at breakfast," Kaiba said, adding the last sentence drolly.

It seemed the light conversation at the dinner table had ended there, and Kaiba had returned to his usual standoffish self. Bakura simply smiled. There wasn't any reason for him to question or react to Kaiba's sudden attitude. The fact that he had a safe place to stay for at least this night was enough.

Kioshi opened the door for them, and Bakura was surprised to see the boxes of things that had been outside his family home were now in here. He wanted to ask if he was just simply visiting or was he being moved into the house, but he dared not to voice it.

Instead, Bakura turned to both Kioshi and Kaiba and simply said, "Thank you very much. Thank you."

Tilting his head in acknowledgment, Kioshi said, "Breakfast is usually served at seven-thirty. The staff has already been informed to ensure a place setting for you at all meals." He directed his attention back to his master. "Sir, are you ready to retire for the evening?"

"Yes, it has been a long flight and longer evening than expected," Kaiba said, "Bakura, in the morning, we will discuss the current arrangement."

"If you require anything, Master Bakura, there is a telephone on the desk that will contact the staff," Kioshi told him before leaving with Kaiba to his room.

Bakura stepped further into the large bedroom. He was currently in a sitting room where there was a desk and a small flatscreen television. A partition slid open to reveal one of the most beautifully and simply decorated rooms he had ever seen. In the center, under a light gray silk half-canopy was a Western bed piled high with pillows and a thick dove-gray comforter. Laid out upon the bed was a white nightshirt. Everything for this evening had been provided for him. A fresh wave of tears threatened him all of sudden.

Perhaps it had been the nature of the last several days in Egypt and then the banishment from his family, but usually Bakura was not the type to cry so easily as he had been. He knew that he could be a bit of a whiner, especially with how easily he bruised or could quickly become hungry. The hardest part was the distance he felt from so many. For him to receive so much assistance, he was not used to this. He was not one to open up and ask for help, preferring instead to keep it inside and not make others unhappy or be a burden upon them.

Sitting down at the desk, he took out a pen and paper that was stored there. He no longer mailed his letters to Amane, but he still wrote to his sister. He wrote to her about what happened with grandmother and how much he missed mother and her. He stated that she should not be worried about him because he had been taken into the Kaiba house. Bakura did not know what the future was going to hold, but he assured her that everything would be 'OK'. Closing the letter, he signed that he loved her and mother, and then slipped it into an envelope.

He then changed into the cotton nightshirt that had been carefully laid out for him. It smelled of sunshine and summer breezes. Pulling back the coverlet, he slipped under the softest sheets he had ever slept in, and he snuggled down for the night after turning off the lamp next to the bed. He was sure that he could sleep here peacefully.


	6. What Dreams May Come

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.  
**

* * *

"Big Brother! Big Brother!" A little girl's voice was calling to Bakura.

He opened his eyes and found himself face to face with a cherub little girl wearing a dark blue jumper with a daisy pattern around the neck and knee-high socks. She was clapping her hands together. He realized he was almost on level with her and looked down at his hands. They were small and childlike.

"Ryou, sing with me! Please!" She begged to him. She bapped him with her pink rabbit that was holding a stuffed daisy.

Bakura began to laugh and could hear the youthful gaiety of his own voice. She began to laugh as well and her dark brown eyes, so like his own, sparkled. Sunlight was streaming into the car they were sitting in from the outside and reflected upon her bright golden hair.

A woman sitting in the front seat turned to face them. She had the same white hair that Bakura had but her eyes were blue like a clear summer sky. She was smiling at the children.

"Ryou, sing with Amane. She is being distracting and we still have a ways to go back to the house."

Bakura smiled up at her. "Yes, Mother."

Amane grabbed Bakura's attention again. "Let's sing the Rabbit song!"

"OK!"

Together the children began to sing, "Pretty rabbit, pretty rabbit! What do you watch while hopping around? I watch the jugo-ya moon while hopping around!"

A squeal of tires interrupted their voices as their song ended. Time slowed down as Bakura turned to see a car coming right toward him and his sister. He tried to grab her, but they were already being thrown toward the other side. Amane slammed against the window and Bakura screamed as it cracked where her head struck. Mother was screaming as well and trying to leap over the seat toward her children. His father was trying to control the car but it was careening out of control.

Metal began to bend from the force of the the other car. Bakura could simultaneously see his sister's eyes wide in pain and fear and the man driving the car that was colliding into them. Then Bakura was being pulled toward his wounded sister as the car began to flip. Cracked glass against Amane's head shattered into thousands of shards. He watched her as she was sucked out of the car and then it was rolling over her body. One second her hand was reaching to him from the other side of the broken window and the next she was gone. Bakura was shrieking and couldn't stop when he collided with the roof of the car.

Sheets were tangled around him, and real Bakura was screaming along with dream Bakura. He fought against those same soft covers that he had admired only hours before. He was crying, and his voice was rapidly become more hoarse. He fell from the bed, but didn't notice it.

Kaiba came rushing into the room. He had been awakened from his sleep by Bakura's screams. Their sleeping areas were directly next to each other, and he could not believe that the Bakura's voice had actually penetrated through the walls. Not knowing what was going on, but seeing the man struggling at the side of his bed, Kaiba began to rip the sheets off of Bakura.

While Kaiba was trying to untangle Bakura, Mokuba came into the room next. He was wearing just his pajama pants and confusedly looked around the room. He was not aware that they had anyone staying in here. His eyes fell on the boxes that he remembered from earlier that night. Bakura. That was when he noticed his brother pulling a screaming Bakura from his sheets.

"Big Brother! What is going on?!" He cried out.

Kaiba turned and saw his brother. He remembered the nightmare Bakura had on the plane ride and did not think Bakura wanted more people involved than necessary to know about this. "Mokuba, go back to your room now. I've got this handled."

Mokuba shook his head. "No way. Let me help."

Bakura was flailing his arms, still caught in the nightmare that had taken over his mind and body. Kaiba desperately tried to catch the hands that threatened to hurt themselves.

Bringing his attention back to his sibling, "Mokuba, I order you to get the hell out of this room right the fuck now. I will talk to you about it tomorrow."

The wild-haired teen looked at his brother as he tried to grasp the pale man in the sheets. He could see those blue eyes flashing at him dangerously. Shaking his head, Mokuba began to retreat.

"You better explain this to me. I'm going to trust you, but you better tell me what is going on." He retreated, closing the door, and Kaiba knew that his brother was not going to let this go, but at the moment, he was busy dealing with a thrashing person.

"Sister! Sister!" Young Bakura was screaming as he crawled out of the wreckage toward her battered little body.

Blood, so much blood was on her and under her. It was staining her white socks and her stuffed rabbit. He could hear Mother still screaming in the car behind him. Father was yelling for help. None of that mattered except his little sister who was staring sightlessly at the blue sky above them. Rusty smells of the crimson fluid assaulted his senses, and they were mingled with the scents of burnt rubber. He saw his hands from a distance cupping her tiny crushed face.

Low, dark laughter began to echo around him. He looked up, and the sky had become black. Red eyes began to open up all around him. Sound had ceased so that only that horrible, cruel laughter remained.

"Stop," Bakura whispered. "Please, stop."

His tears were falling down his cheeks and splashing on Amane's still face, washing clean tracks through the dirt and blood. Then, her eyes moved.

"It's all your fault," a guttural voice resonated from within her throat. It was not Amane's.

"Forgive me! No, no! Forgive me!"

He could feel hands grabbing at his arms, but he tried to surge toward her. Then someone was turning him, but he couldn't see. Bakura's eyes were blind to everything but Amane's.

"Come back. Come back, Bakura. It's just a nightmare!"

The voice seemed so familiar. It was known. It was Kaiba's voice that was pulling him away. Shock over it caused Bakura to wake up from the terror of his dreams. He found himself in Kaiba's arms, still tangled by his sheets, on the floor next to the bed. His arms were tight around his body, and Bakura could feel the heat coming off the other man. Heat and life. He clutched at Kaiba.

Sobbing, Bakura pleaded to him, "Please, don't let me go! Don't send me back! Amane!"

Kaiba tightened his arms around the frail man that he was holding. He didn't fully understand what was going on, but he could understand nightmares. He had experienced more than a few in his lifetime, especially after his step-father had killed himself.

"I got you. Calm down and breathe. I got you," he said in a soothing voice.

He could feel Bakura shaking in his arms. Kaiba stroked his hair, noticing that it was incredibly soft and silky. Even with the overriding fear that Bakura was experiencing, Kaiba realized just how strange it was that the other man was interlocked intimately against him in such a way that he fit like a puzzle piece. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of these wholly inappropriate thoughts. Then he felt Bakura begin to pull back. Kaiba wasn't ready to let him go.

"Bakura," he whispered.

Bakura looked up and noticed how close their faces were to one another. He didn't want anyone to know of his shame and that thought came crashing through his mind. He tried to shake his head and pull himself further away, but he was locked against Kaiba. As he breathed, it felt like Kaiba was stealing his breath away. His lips were the barest centimeters away from his.

As he watched his eyes, Kaiba could see that strange flatness threatening to come back and seal away that vulnerability and humanity. He was losing Bakura to whatever demons were threatening him at the moment, and Kaiba did not accept defeat in anything. He had to bring Bakura back to the present and not let him get lost in himself again. He had to know what was going on in this strange man's head. Kaiba did the only thing that instinct demanded of him. He shut his eyes and closed the distance between their lips.

Shocked by the kiss, Bakura closed his own eyes and found himself returning it. He could feel the pressure from Kaiba's arms around him changing as he was pulled closer to his body. Bakura wrapped his free arms around Kaiba's neck and clung to him. His breath was gone, taken by Kaiba, and he didn't care right now. He was drowning in the other man. This water was sweetness and not salty, like his tears. He felt safe. He felt life in Kaiba's embrace.

Kaiba could taste sweet cream on Bakura's lips. He hungered for it and deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging between the man's lips to claim his mouth. Tears from earlier found their way to their joined lips, and Kaiba licked them them away. His mouth was hot, so very hot against his. His hands stroked down Bakura's back and found the hem of the nightshirt. Kaiba pulled it away long enough to slip his hands under it and touch the smooth skin underneath.

He was so thin. Kaiba could feel each vertebrea just under the surface. Bakura had turned himself during the kiss, and his chest was pressed against Kaiba's while his legs had wrapped themselves around his waist. Kaiba could feel the growing arousal between them. Their hardnesses pressed tightly against one another. Only thin cotton was separating them. Kaiba felt the urge to rip it all away and find out if Bakura was just as hot inside the rest of his body.

It was that thought that made him stop what he was doing and end the kiss. His mind raced, trying to figure out what he was doing and wrap itself around the fact that this was with a man. He flashed back to childhood at that same moment. No, he had never been kissed by him, but he had been abused. Only a very thin line remained that had not been crossed back then. He subtlety pushed Bakura back against his bed and away from him, breathing heavily.

Bakura panted, trying to catch his breath from the kiss. He wasn't sure what to make of this. For all the young women who had followed him around at school, he had never been kissed before. He had always been scared to kiss anyone. His desires ran so counter to what he thought was normal that he had shirked away from himself. This could not be normal, but it had felt so right in that moment. Furthermore, he felt like he didn't deserve this type of affection. How could it had happened.

"I shouldn't have done that. I apologize." Kaiba turned his head away as he disentangled himself for the other man.

"No. I... I should be apologizing," Bakura replied. "I did not mean to wake anyone. I..."

Turning back to face him, Kaiba searched Bakura's eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Bakura sighed. Even though Kaiba had pulled away and they were no longer pressed together, they were still very close. Their knees were barely brushing each other. He closed his eyes. Flashes of the nightmare burned across his lids.

"I don't know," he said as tears began to trail down his cheeks. He felt Kaiba's hand capture them, but when he opened his eyes again, the hand was already gone.

"Could it be from the stress of today?" Kaiba tried to offer. He didn't want to pry too deep, it wasn't his business to do so, but he felt obligated after the liberties he took on Bakura to be more vested in him.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Bakura shivered. "I don't know. It's not the first time."

"I know," Kaiba interjected.

"How?" Bakura asked.

Kaiba shrugged. "On the plane. You had a nightmare then. I calmed you down so you wouldn't wake Mokuba."

He was wearing his distance again like a shield. Kaiba knew it, but he couldn't let Bakura know how he had calmed him. He stood up and held a hand out to the other man. Bakura took it and allowed himself to be pulled up.

"Does Mokuba know?" Bakura whispered.

Shaking his head, Kaiba said, "No, he didn't know about what happened on the plane, but he's aware of what happened tonight." He paused and added, "You were screaming. We both heard you."

Bakura wearily sat down on the bed, the sheets on the floor at his bare feet. He was scared to go back to sleep, but he was so tired. He didn't know what to do. Kaiba had stepped back and leaned against the bureau, crossing his arms.

It was then that Bakura noticed that Kaiba was wearing nothing more than a pair of a blue boxer shorts. He could see the finely chiseled lines of Kaiba's body clearly, the parts that had only been hinted at by his clothing. There was little here to be able to hide with. He felt a blush rise in his cheeks and turned away so Kaiba wouldn't see him.

"Are you going to go back to sleep?" Kaiba asked him, drawing him back to the conversation.

"I don't know." Bakura released a shaky breath. "To be honest, I'm scared."

Raising an eyebrow, Kaiba replied, "Why?"

"You'll laugh," Bakura said as he fidgeted with his hands.

Chuckling as he thought of the situation, Kaiba responded, "Try me. Really. Considering all that has happened in the last fifteen minutes that you're scared I'll laugh at you, that is laughable."

Bakura looked up at Kaiba. Kaiba could see that vulnerability that he tried to save reflected there. "I'm scared to go back to sleep alone," he finally said.

Kaiba's eyes widened as he took a sharp intake of breath. He watched as Bakura turned his face away enough to cause his white hair to conceal his features from him. Not sure how to respond, Kaiba remained silent.

"It's alright. I'm being a baby as my grandmother would say. It annoyed them to no end that I would wake up screaming." Bakura frowned and bitterly added, "It was not what proper people are supposed to do."

"Did no one consider that maybe you needed help?" Kaiba was surprised. He thought callousness was a hallmark of his adoptive family. It surprised him to hear that wasn't entirely the case.

"I was sent to various doctors. It didn't matter. Even when they pumped me full of their drugs, the nightmares still came. They gave up after a couple of years."

"How long have they known about it?" Kaiba asked him.

"When Father moved grandmother into the home. After the duel Yugi had with Atemu." Bakura left unspoken what they both knew. The spirit controlling Bakura had momentarily kidnapped Mokuba to challenge Kaiba, and that was just a few of the horrible things that spirit had done with his body.

Kaiba slowly nodded. "I see."

Self-consciously laughing, Bakura said, "I'm sorry to bore you with all this. Really, I'm fine. You should get some sleep. I can stay up for a bit and catch some television. There should be interesting anime on at this hour."

Looking at him, Kaiba knew that Bakura was lying. He was not fine, and he did not want to be alone. However, who was he to argue with this. In fact, he did want to leave if only to figure out what was going on with his own head in all of this. He did not kiss men, much less have the thoughts that he had regarding Bakura during that kiss. He inclined his forehead, touching it with his hand.

"Very well. I am in the next room over," he said to Bakura.

Bakura gave Kaiba a weak smile as he hopped off the bed and picked up the sheets. As he was toying with them, he kept his face from being seen by Kaiba.

"Kaiba, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell Mokuba the extent of my nightmares."

"Mokuba wants to know what is going on with you, and... persistence pales next to my little brother's will."

"I will figure something out by the time the house awakens," Bakura offered.

Kaiba gave him a nod and turned away to exit the room. He paused at the door as he opened it. For a brief moment, he wanted to turn around and tell the pale thin man behind him that everything would be alright and there was nothing to fear. However, Kaiba was not a liar nor did he make promises he could not keep. He wasn't sure if he could keep that promise to Bakura.

Seeing Kaiba pause, Bakura waited to see what happened next. Instead, he watched as Kaiba left without another word. Taking the sheets with him, Bakura piled them around him and turned on the television. Animax was broadcasting a repeat episode of Death Note. He snuggled down and began to watch the show. It seemed almost appropriate.


	7. Life in a Day of

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.  
**

* * *

Dawn made its way across the landscape. It filtered across fields and valleys with its pale, rose-hued incandescence. Still awake since the night before was Bakura. He sat on his small couch watching animation. In the room next to him, Kaiba was already up and dressed, checking his email. On the other side, Mokuba was going over his study work.

Bakura waited for the appointed time told to him by Kioshi to go down for breakfast. As his show switched to another, he looked up at the clock. It was seven-thirty. He had already changed into his clothing for the day, a pair of jeans and long-sleeved blue shirt. The grappling from Kaiba last night had left a fine tracery of bruises along his arms. However, if he really examined why he choose the blue shirt, it was because the blue matched the blue of Kaiba's eyes.

He heard the door across the hall open and close. Mokuba must be on his way down. Bakura took that as his sign to go downstairs. As he stepped out of his door, he ran directly into Kaiba who had also exited and was walking down the hall.

"Sorry, excuse me," Bakura said, his nose directly against Kaiba's upper chest.

He felt Kaiba grasps his shoulders and move him out of his way. "Come on, it's time for breakfast." His voice was cold and not like the one he had used during the night.

Feeling more confused than before, Bakura followed the taller man down the hall toward the dining room again. Kaiba was dressed for his work day in a finely tailored white suit. Sapphire cuff-links offset the white-on-white ensemble. He carried a pair of white leather dress shoes. Bakura couldn't help admire Kaiba, though he kept telling himself it was because the suit was so nice. Kaiba stopped and dropped the shoes off in the genkan before continuing the rest of the way to the dining room.

Set out much as the same way as before, an elegant but simple meal had been prepared. There was one notable difference from the night before. At the head of the table, where Kaiba went to sit, there were stacks of newspapers in several languages. Japanese, as expected was there, but there were American, German, Italian, British, Indian, Chinese, and others. Bakura sat down as he watched Kaiba begin to read them. He was amazed that he was reading them all in their native languages.

"Good morning, Bakura," Mokuba interrupted Bakura's thoughts.

Bakura smiled at the teen. "Good morning, Mokuba."

Mokuba frowned and looked over at his brother. "At least you are willing to greet me in the morning. Most times, this one is too absorbed in work to even consider wasting time on a greeting."

"Mokuba, I don't have time for this. I'm already behind schedule for today after last night," Kaiba snapped back. He flipped the paper to the next page.

Trying to keep his expression schooled, Bakura realized the confidant he had last night was gone and now replaced by the cold businessman. He sighed. It was his fault that Kaiba was behind on his work.

"I'm sorry. It is my fault, Mokuba," Bakura finally said.

Mokuba was nibbling on a bite-sized salmon stuffed onigiri. He put it down. "No, it's not. And about last night..."

Bakura turned away, looking at the window where sunlight was streaming in through the diaphanous curtains. It was like the sun itself was saying last night never happened. "It was a stressful day."

He wasn't fully lying, but he also knew it was not the truth regarding his nightmares. Bakura hoped that Mokuba would have the sense not to pry further.

"But what did you dream about that had you screaming so much?" Mokuba did pry further. Bakura cursed himself inwardly.

"Mokuba," Kiaba interrupted, "it is not any of your business about Bakura's nightmares any more than it is mine. Drop the subject." A German newspaper was switched for the Wall Street Journal. Kaiba sipped at a bowl of miso and then took a swig of his black coffee.

Eyes flashing in annoyance at his brother, Mokuba snapped back, "Then can I at least ask how Bakura ended up here?"

Kaiba sighed from behind his newspaper. "Because I went and got him after you accused me of being a heartless bastard in not so many words. He is also your responsibility since it was originally your idea to help him."

"That's funny. I couldn't tell last night when you kicked me out of his room."

"Mokuba..." Kaiba warned as he put down his newspaper. His expression told Mokuba that if he persisted he would be on the receiving end of Kaiba's famous anger.

Frowning, Mokuba remained silent. He knew he was pushing his brother. He took a spoonful of his okayu, capturing an umeboshi with it. Bakura had shirked back from their exchange, trying not to cause more contention. He caught Bakura's eye. "You should eat something for breakfast."

"Oh yes, sorry," Bakura captured a few slices of tamagoyaki. He nibbled on it; the egg was a perfect combination of salty and sweet flavorings.

It was almost hilarious, Bakura thought to himself. It didn't matter what happened to him, his stomach still could be hungry and want to be filled. It was a wonder he was so unnaturally thin. He added some mackerel and a bit of tsukemono to his rice. He began to eat heartily.

After breakfast was cleared away, Kaiba put down his latest newspaper. "Mokuba, Americans are arriving this morning to discuss a deal with Kaiba Corporation regarding some of the experimental duel disk technology we have in progress."

"Oh?" Mokuba asked over his green tea.

"Yes, so I will need for you to attend to Bakura and help him before you take a car to school."

"Very well, I can do that," he responded.

Kaiba stood up and finished his coffee. "I will call if I will be late." He turned and left the table.

Bakura and Mokuba were silent for a few moments, then Mokuba broke it. "Bakura, where do you go to school at?"

"Tokyo University of Technology."

"Why don't you live on campus?"

Bakura sighed. "To cut down on the expenses. I made a deal to get reduced tuition if I lived off-campus." Another half-lie. The truth was that with his horrible nightmares, he would have generated more attention than he would have wanted. Saving on the expenses was just a plus. He tried to redirect. "So what sort of high-school are you going to?"  
"Meh," Mokuba groused. "One of those boring, stuck-up private ones that Seto insisted I attend 'for a quality education suited for the future vice-president of Kaiba Corporation.' Half of the people there only talk to me because of my money, the other half for prestige."

Truly interested, and feeling concerned over the teen, Bakura probed, "There's no one there you like?"

"No. There are a couple people at the cram school that I like. They don't know who I really am because I signed up with a different last name. I also tie my hair back so while a couple might suspect my look, they haven't said anything."

Looking surprised, Bakura tried to say something. This was horrible that Mokuba felt he had to hide who he was just to make sure he made real friends.

Mokuba read Bakura's shocked expression instantly, "Don't worry about it, Bakura. It's an unfortunate fact of life for Seto and myself. Only, Seto doesn't have any opportunities where he can be someone else because not everyone knows who the future vice-president is, but everyone knows who the president and CEO is."

"It must be a lonely existence," Bakura said softly.

Shrugging, Mokuba replied, "We make do."

Bakura thought about this sad fact of existence for the handsome CEO. It bothered him that the man may have no real friends except his brother. Maybe that was why he swung so sharply between the caring man he was last night to wearing the coldness he had this morning. Thinking about the night before brought a heated blush to his cheeks. They way Kaiba had kissed him had been hungry and passionate. In those moments, he had completely forgotten about his nightmare and was lost in the feel of his hands and lips on him. It was the first time he had ever felt that.

"Are you okay?" Mokuba asked. "You're flush all of a sudden?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Sorry," Bakura hastily said. He could be too readable he thought.

Mokuba smiled. "Well, I was saying, you must be different. You're the first person that Seto has ever let stay here overnight. I wanted to help last night, but I figured if he was willing, he would have had you stay at one of our hotels or apartments we own."

This took Bakura by surprise. "I'm different?"

"You seem to have an honesty about you. Its like, yeah, you're impressed by what you see here." Mokuba laughed. "It's obvious, you're eyes are constantly wide when you see something new, but... it doesn't seem why you are talking to me or Seto."

He was feeling more comfortable around the strong-willed teen. "I suppose not. I have a hard time being around others, and the nightmare from last night embarrasses me that either one of you saw that."

"About that. You are okay, now, right?" Mokuba seemed genuinely worried.

Bakura shrugged. He really didn't want to lie to Mokuba, but for all the comfortable feelings, he wasn't ready to open up to the extent he had with Kaiba.

Mokuba could see that Bakura wasn't ready to discuss it so he changed the subject. "What about your family? What will you do?"

That was when the source of his evening going downhill hit him full force again. A defeated look found its way into his dark brown eyes. Bakura released a heavy sigh.

"I'm not sure. I don't want to impose here any longer than I have to, but to be honest, I have no idea what I'm going to do. I cannot afford the tuition to stay on campus even with a part-time job. I'm not sure about sharing a place with strangers either." He left unsaid about his nightmares being a constant source of problems.

"Maybe Seto will let you stay here and finish your schooling? He is rather adamant about education." Mokuba laughed. "He always says idiots bore and annoy him."

Blushing, Bakura said, "Oh, I must be a constant bore for you both, then. I'm not very smart."

"Whatever. You also have a real heart, it seems to me anyways. I think you're trustworthy. Maybe Seto feels the same way." Mokuba pondered a moment and continued. "For all his coldness, Seto is a really good person. It's just hard for others to see it because he trusts so few. What am I saying, I'm the only person he truly trusts. Kioshi is high up but I know that he doesn't know everything. I'm pretty sure I don't even know everything that Seto thinks and I'm his brother!"

A clock chimed the half-hour. It was eight-thirty.

"We better get going," Mokuba said, "I'm not sure your schedule, but I have to be at school by nine."

Bakura nodded. "The same."

"I'll have a driver take you to school and pick you up. Just tell her what time you get out of class." Mokuba grew quiet and looked at Bakura in the eyes, his serious. "I don't have to tell you to tell no one that you are staying here, do I?"

Putting his hands up, Bakura shook his head. "No, no, I wouldn't tell anyone."

"Good." The teen was satisfied with the answer. "We'll talk more when I get home. I'm not usually home until seven because of the cram school. Kaiba is usually home around ten, but with this meeting with the Americans, he may run late. It usually happens when foreign clientele visit."

They made their exits, Mokuba introducing Bakura to who would be his driver for the day. Her name was Tamika, and she insisted on using honorifics with Bakura. Usually it was he that was giving such respect.

"But Master Bakura, you are an associate of Masters Kaiba. You deserve respect." She was confused.

"Just Bakura is fine." He shook his head, a blush seeping across his cheeks. "I'm not deserving of special respect."

"Sorry, Master Bakura, but I cannot treat you any less." She smiled and had started the car.

Bakura was sitting in the backseat. It was a comfortable vehicle. Nothing overtly fancy, just a simple domestic car. If there was one thing to determine that he was being chauffeured, it would be her dark uniform with the Kaiba Corporation logo over her left breast. Still, he was nervous about such trappings. He would have been fine with a ride to the nearest train station. On the up side, at least he would be too busy at school to worry about his current situation. He stared at the window, watching the world passing him by.

Kaiba stalked from his car into his building. Everywhere he went people wished him good morning and good health. He didn't pay attention to any of them. They were all long since beneath his notice. People who sought to curry his favor so he might take notice of him. Lazy fools. The only things he noticed was creativity and hard work. Not like any of them had figured that out yet.

He angrily punched his keycode into his private elevator and stepped in. The doors shut him off from the employees as he was rushed upwards to his penthouse office. Normally, the ride allowed him to relax as he watched the city descend below him from the clear glass tube, but this time, his thoughts were a jumble.

Bakura. That was who was on his mind at the moment. Unbeknownst to the white-haired man, he could easily make life difficult for Kaiba. The problem was, Kaiba didn't know which option would cause the most problems. He leaned his head against the glass, closing his eyes. He had kissed plenty of women over the years, but kissing Bakura, a man, had stirred a hunger in him he had never felt before. Everything else had just been a biological function. Even thinking about it in the confines of his elevator was causing him to become aroused again. He could swear he still tasted sweet cream on his lips.

However, the problem was that this sort of situation could easily land him on the cover of every tabloid in the world and possibly cause the loss of shareholders and confidence in his corporation. He felt the urge to punch the glass in front of him. Over the years, he had done everything possible to ensure that nothing ever interfered with his rise to the top or the functioning of his corporation. From battling and removing the remaining programs of his adopted father and brother to ensuring his own sterility so no random woman could lay claim to half his fortune, he had given his all to build. Now, he found him facing something he didn't want to give up, but he had let it go.

He senses the elevator slowing its ascent as it came closer to his floor. Soon it gave a low ding as the doors opened on their own. His secretary was hard at work at her desk. A lovely woman that would give anything in the world for an affair. She had tried more than once, but as Kaiba told her one day, it was better to know the true intentions of his staff than to not know them. Next to her was one of his personal staff, his bodyguard, he had already arrived hours earlier and maintained all the video surveillance on this floor.

"Kimi." He nodded to the woman who greeted him good morning. "Hiroshi." This to his body guard.

"Mister Kaiba, sir, the Americans from Wizards of the Games have landed one hour ago. I have a driver delivering them to their hotel first and to the office next for the meeting."

She handed Kaiba several private level correspondences. He knew, other than the fervent desire to physically screw him over, that she was otherwise trustworthy enough for maintaining his communications and schedules through the day. He paid her well-enough that she didn't want to lose her job or credibility.

"Thank you, Kimi. Notify me when the Americans arrive." He gave a hand-signal to Hiroshi, who followed him into his office and stood by the door.

Kaiba went through the various letters. Some were attempted pitches for amateur gaming products, and others were invitations to various parties and events for the upper-class. All boring and a waste of time, but sometimes there were gems to be found. He came across one of many event invitations, it was all heavy, pale cream-colored stock with silver lettering. He saw a flash of doe eyes with such vulnerability and a need for trust on the surface. He shook his head to clear the mirage.

At that moment, Kimi's voice came over his intercom, "The Americans are being escorted to the blue conference room as you requested before you went to Egypt. They will be arriving in moments."

He pressed a button and responded, "Thank you, Kimi. I am on my way now."

His presentation already completed days ago, Kaiba grabbed a white leather binder and inserted it inside. He knew the white on blue would create a complicated plethora of calmness and nervousness. This was how he liked to run a meeting. He nodded to Hiroshi, who stepped into pace behind him. It was now time to do what he did best and to forget about the man that he had let into his house. A mystery of its own that he would deal with later.


	8. Reflections of Our Design

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

* * *

Mokuba stared out the window in his classroom. Currently, his teacher was droning on about Japanese History, and usually, he found the topic fascinating, but today, his mind was elsewhere. He tapped his pen against his papers. Instead of taking notes, he had drawn various Duel Monsters. His artwork was improving, but it wasn't going to help him pass his history exam.

He thought about when school would end. His driver would come to fetch him and drop him off a block away from the cram school he had selected. It was really for public school students. However, Mokuba wanted to just be treated like anyone else. There, he could be himself with out the Kaiba legacy hanging over his head. In some ways, he would never be like anyone else. He knew without a doubt, like others of high-profile corporation families, his entire future and path. He knew what was expected of him.

It wasn't too bad. He did enjoy the work that he was able to do already for his brother. It was just that he wondered constantly what life would have been like had Gozubaru Kaiba never adopted them. Would they had been happy with less in life? He remembered the first cards they had and how his brother so dearly wanted a Blue Eyes White Dragon. Mokuba smiled as he began to sketch one. His drawing much improved since when he was a child and drew one for Kaiba.

He could hear the teacher calling for him in class, but he ignored him. They would not say anything. He could try to fail all his classes, but unless he did something really wrong, the school was silent about it. He was a hardworking student, when he felt like it. Most of these subjects were useless to him. He was already well acquainted with them, and this was more refresher work to him. If he thought about it, he didn't need to go to cram school, but Mokuba wanted a chance for real friends.

A small ding and his last class ended. He stood up with the others to give a neat bow. As everyone filtered out of the classroom, many stopped by his desk trying to chat with him. He ignored them. Mokuba knew that all of those approaching him were doing so for ulterior motives. Many a girl had thrown her body against his in the hall, pretending to had slipped and hoping, beyond hope, he might take an interest. He never did, but they never stopped trying.

Without a word, he exited and made his way to the waiting car outside. Only then, in the confines of the limousine and free of the shallow crowd did he allow himself to crack a small smile. He began to rip off his prep school uniform and switch into street clothes. He pulled his hair back into a neat ponytail, allowing several parts of his bangs to fall stylishly into his eyes. It was strange, to some the binding may represent restriction, but for him, it represented his freedom. This was the only time he was free of his family's legacy.

They arrived at the usual location that he would exit the vehicle. Advising the driver of the time of pickup, he grabbed his bag and made his way into the crowd. He felt a happy as he was sometimes jostled by the numbers on the sidewalk. Sure, everyone apologized for bumping into him, just as he did them, but they did not abject themselves at him like they would if they knew who he really was.

He adjusted the strap of his bag and made his way into a small building set a little ways back from the sidewalk. It was completely nondescript. Very little markings showed what it was from the outside. However, it was here that he had a couple of friends. Societies rules kept others from pursuing why he never invited anyone to his home, and he figured they assumed he must have a difficult family, but these were people who he could talk to about anything. The best part was that they would disagree with him at times.

"Takahasi!" called out another teen as he entered.

Smiling, Mokuba waved to him as he took a seat next to him. "Hi, Saitou. How you doing?"

Saitou was slightly rotund around the middle, but he was always cheerful about it. He had a darker complexion than most as a result of going out of the city each weekend with his parents to help his grandparents on their farm. He tended to wear his hair close cropped and didn't affect any of the popular street styles.

"Very good, very good. We have some hakuto that are still in season at the farm. Would you like me to bring you one on Monday?" He asked him.

"I'd love one," Mokuba replied. Saitou was always willing to bring him a treat from the farm if he knew what they were picking in advance. He pulled out his drawings he had made in class earlier. "Check these out. What do you think?"

"Wow! You're really good. You should send these to Kaiba Corporation, maybe they could make them into cards."

Mokuba laughed. "Yeah, sure." He was always careful to keep responses about Kaiba Corporation or Duel Monsters in a neutral zone. He truly didn't like that he was kind of living a lie here. However, if they knew who he really was, then they would become like everyone else around him. He liked the way things were.

"Good afternoon, Mokuba Takahasi and Ebisu Saitou," A pleasant American female voice announced in English as she walked by the boys. They quickly greeted her in English as well.

The current track of study at Mokuba's cram school was English. Sometimes, Mokuba purposely messed up his work at the school as another way to fit in with this group of students. He smiled as Saitou passed him a note and slipped it in his pocket. It was their duty to now give their time to this teacher.

Bakura exited the university and walked across the pavement. The sun was shining down on him and caused the concrete to glitter at his feet. It was these pair of feet that he was currently watching. He had become adept at keeping his head down and weaving through the crowds to avoid people. Adjusting his schoolbag, he kept it so that it wouldn't jar against his body too much. He bruised so easily he thought to himself.

It was something that he noticed earlier in the day when he went to the restroom. Out of curiosity, he lifted his shirt to look at himself in the mirror. He remembered the marks on his arms and back from that morning. His reflection confirmed for him that they were still there and had become darker with faint yellowing at the edges over the last few hours. Before another student could walk in on him, he had quickly concealed himself under the voluminous blue cloth.

As he walked, he could hear a radio station talking about the latest overseas Duel Monsters championship. A challenge had gone out to his friend, Yugi Mutou. No surprise there. For years now, people continuously would challenge the short man with the tri-colored hair. Bakura chuckled to himself. He should try to make time to hang out with Yugi outside of an emergency situation.

Sighing, he knew the real reason why he kept away from all his old friends over the years. It had to do with the memories and the subsequent nightmares. It was easy to forgive someone for something they couldn't remember ever doing. Especially when it was discovered that he had been possessed by a malevolent spirit, but would they be so forgiving if they knew he was remembering. He was scared that they would think that he could become like that evil being. Sometimes, late a night, he wondered if he was and just didn't know it.

He stopped when he reached the corner of the previously decided cross-streets for his pickup by Kaiba's driver. Looking around, he could see crowds of men and women, old and young, making their ways to where they needed to go without a fuss. He could hear a slight hum in his ears, and he figured it was from the passing cars. However, the light seemed too bright now and he rubbed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he was no longer surrounded by the busy street with throngs of people. Instead, he was standing on a golden, sand covered cliff side overlooking an ancient city. Pyramids were the backdrop against a pale, watery blue sky. Smoke rose in dark plumes as he watched people screaming and running from their homes. Men in dark cloaks on horseback hacked through the groups with gleaming scimitars like they were harvesting the autumn wheat. Bakura wanted to scream, but when he opened his mouth, he heard himself shouting encouragements to the attackers in Ancient Egyptian.

A light tap touched his shoulder, and he spun around, dropping into a defensive crouch. In front of him was his driver from that morning. Tamika wore a bright smile and had her hand up in greeting.

"Master Bakura, I'm here as we decided. You best get into the car, people are staring and traffic is upset."

He looked around, confused, but he could see people glaring at him for putting a stop to traffic. Nodding, he followed her to the car where she opened the door for him. Bakura slipped into the cool, dark exterior and leaned back against the plush seating. He noticed that the car still smelled new; something he had missed that morning.

As they drove, Tamika asked, "Master Bakura, would you like to return to the house or did you want to go somewhere else?"

After the waking dream he had just had, all he wanted to do was be somewhere safe and quiet. "Please take me back to the house," he murmured.

She nodded and left him in peace the rest of the ride there. This gave him some free time to try and figure out what had just happened. He desperately wondered if he was going insane. For a moment, he had thought he was in Ancient Egypt. He thought he was that man that Yugi and the others had told him about. The one that had been possessed by Zorc and attempted to destroy the world. Nervously, he ran his hand through his hair and noticed a few white strains were caught on his fingers.

"The color of death," he said to himself.

"What was that, Master Bakura?" He could see Tamika's green-gray eyes looking at him from the rear-view mirror.

Shaking his head, Bakura replied, "Nothing, Miss Tamika."

She simply chuckled and paid him no more mind all the way back to the Kaiba brothers' home. Bakura was lost in his thoughts, trying to analyze why he had that vision of ancient times. If it was some sort of aftereffect from what he saw of Anzu and Atemu. He nibbled on a nail. When they arrived and Tamika opened his door, he left without really noticing that he had exited the vehicle. His body was on autopilot while his mind was caught up within itself.

"Excuse me, Master Bakura?" It was Kioshi.

Bakura realized he had been standing in the genkan for sometime. He had already removed his shoes but had not switched into the house slippers.

He tried to smile, but it was more a grimace. "I'm sorry about standing here idling."

Kioshi gave him a simple shrug. "It does not matter to me if you stand there or not, Master Bakura. I am merely getting your attention so I can let the staff know when you would be eating."

"Oh, I have to a lot to work to do. Could I join Mokuba when he returns for dinner?" Looking down at his satchel of books and assignments he had returned with, Bakura laughed lightly.

The butler gave him a neat bow, perfunctory and simple, and retreated to whichever part of the huge house he was going next. Bakura looked around. He was alone. Alone to explore where he would. Fine artwork adorned the simple white walls, and marble floors expanded out from the wood of the genkan. Simple and clean. That was the impression that he had. Also, of money. Every little item spread out before him spoke of immense, immaculate wealth.

He ran his had along a marble railing inset into to wall near him as he stepped further into the house on his own. Geometric designs decorated the occasional rug he came across, and he could feel the plush through his now slippered feet. He found the wing where the refurbishing was ongoing. Even in the throes of construction, when the workers retreated everything was neatly arranged and tidied. Very little dust existed.

Bakura peeped in on servants in the kitchen. Two young women were socializing, each dressed in the maid's uniform worn by Kaiba staff. They hooked their arms together and exited away from where he was watching. In a way, he longed for that type of easy companionship. He wondered if they were maybe sisters. Kaiba and Mokuba seemed to have a deep connection to one another. Between what he had been told and his own gleanings, he knew that they must have had a difficult childhood. Theirs was not a charade that some of the rich put on about their lives.

At that moment, he wondered about his own family. He tried to decide if his father missed him. For a moment, he almost believed it. Then he remembered, he would not have gone against grandmother. No, his father would never tell him or show him if he was missed from the family. He would never hear from them again. In a way, what was one more lost child. He had already lost his wife and daughter, adding a son was not a far stretch. Maybe now, his father would cease working so much and traveling. Without a ghost of the past in his home or responsibility, he would find another woman to beget a new family with him.

That was when he realized that there were no photographs in the entire home he thus far explored of the Kaiba brothers. None. This bothered Bakura to his core. That wasn't right. Every family had photographs of their kin hung up on walls or on display somewhere in their homes. For all the grace and beauty of the furnishings and artwork, there was no family in this house.

Maybe it was a reaction to losing his family the night before, but Bakura soon found himself running down halls and entering open rooms seeking some symbol of family in the austere house. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, but he couldn't stop running from room to room. There was no life. He couldn't find the life of the house. No smiling photographs, and no candid shots of holidays spent together. He could understand why there weren't any when their adopted father was alive, but why were there none now of them.

Bakura found himself standing in the main room once again. He was bent at his waist with his palms on his knees, panting. Hot sticky, sweat trickled from his neck, caught under his thick snowy hair. The air-conditioning felt like ice on his skin. It was like the house was mocking his lack of family. His loss and the house's loss were one. He wanted to throw those fine vases near him into a wall, just to hear them break, but decorum held him from doing so. This was not his home.

He wondered if this was what was shaking him. He tried to pull himself back from the brink of insanity as his mind raced against his emotions. No one of the staff was even checking on him. He wondered if at these times they just left you alone and that they were not paid to offer compassion to the distressed.

Feeling cool stone under his hands, Bakura realized he had collapsed upon the floor on his knees. His heart was continuing to race in his chest, and he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. Tears welled up in his eyes and started spilling over his cheeks. They cascaded from his chin to drip onto the floor.

A door opened. It was the front door. He could hear Mokuba's voice on a phone but not make out the words. The sound of a heavy satchel fell and hit the wooden floor. A clatter of plastic. Hands were pulling him back from the chasm that had threatened to open under him. He could see Mokuba's mouth forming words, asking him if he was alright.

Catching Mokuba's indigo-blue eyes with his reddened, sad brown ones, Bakura managed to choke out, "Why are there no family pictures? Why is there no life?"

Mokuba looked surprised and released his hold on Bakura. He looked down. It was something he had accepted so long ago that he never really tried to think about it anymore. He had one picture. He wore it around his neck, usually under his shirt. It was one half of a whole from the orphanage. His life before becoming a Kaiba. His brother had the other half around his neck.

Touching the card locket with his hand, he tried not to let his voice catch when he responded. "Because, Seto doesn't want pictures."


	9. Lies I Tell Myself

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

* * *

Kaiba was on top of his game. He had suitably cowed and impressed the men from America. Throughout the entire meeting, his mind had been clean, focused. Directing every moment of the meeting had been all part of his masterful _coup de grace_ style. He did not care if they were minors in the Duel Monsters gaming world; any business that tried to approach him was fodder for him to crush beneath his feet.

He knew they were already impressed by the facilities of Kaiba Corporation when he walked into the blue conference room. It was his personal favorite. He designed this room himself. Its sole purpose was to assist him in not only getting a deal made but causing his competition to falter and fail to fight his one-sided negotiations.

It had been during the construction of Kaiba Land that he had noticed how the walls had bothered him in one of the incomplete hallways. His workers discovered that the frame had been misaligned by a few degrees. They tore the hallway down and rebuilt it, but Kaiba had the trick duplicated in his favorite conference room.

Serving a new sinister purpose, this otherwise flawed craftsmanship was designed to cause the nerves of its occupants to become frayed just as his had become. This led to those present being more easily manipulated as they tried to find comfortable, straight-edged angles that were not present. They would keep asking themselves if the room was supposed to be like that or if they were imaging things. Kaiba couldn't help the sardonic grin when he would see the first person succumb to the walls' effect; a trickle of cold sweat running down their neck into their collar was a sure indicator.

Dark blue colored the walls, and the carpet was a shade darker. Lighter shades of blue usually evoked a sense of calmness in people, but the heavy blend of dark tones lent to a sense of defeat and loneliness. A use of color as a weapon against his interlopers. What little decorations that adorned the room also kept to the predominant color themes.

In addition to the walls alignment and colors, the table was also just slightly misaligned. Enough so that on first glance, it didn't appear that it was but the longer you looked at it, the sooner the mind would realize that something was wrong. In addition, it was pure white and showed every fingerprint that dared to touch it. Since Kaiba preferred to stand during these types of meetings, he never left a mark but those who came would notice that they were leaving behind subtle prints. His lips pulled as he recalled one of the ink pins had exploded all over the that pristine surface. Another subtle placement designed to distract and wreck havoc with the mind.

Emulating the pure white surface of the table was Kaiba, himself in finely tailored suit of white silk that hugged every hard angle of his body. There was nothing soft about those high-reaching cheekbones or stiff pose. Except for his sapphire cuff-links, no other color decorated his person. He felt warmth did not suit. In this position and costume, he was like his preferred duel monster at this very moment. Deadly and graceful.

When he entered the room, the American men had been ushered in by the pink ladies; young women who generally did not stay with the company once they found a KC salaryman to marry them. A coffee service followed his entrance and the aroma of fresh coffee had wafted across the table. The women remained silent with passive faces, giving a low bow before exiting and leaving the room to Kaiba and his executive staff. Normally, Mokuba would attend these meeting with him at his side, but for his own reasons, his brother had stated he could not be present.

Running faster than he normally preferred, the company on the other side of the negotiation had cowed to his subtle and not-so-subtle negotiation techniques. Smirking, he had accepted their offer to celebrate and, subsequently, pay the bill for it. One of his staff had suggested a particular establishment that he knew that Kaiba used to further tighten the noose of a contract.

As the lights of Tokyo flashed outside the window of the swiftly moving limousine, Kaiba now sat with the American company's top executives. He intended to not only milk additional information from the boorish CEOs mind, but he planned to ensure they would be in compromising enough positions that they would never dare to cause him any problems in the future.

"Mister Kaiba." A blonde, deeply tanned man a few years older than him spoke up. His Japanese was poor, and Kaiba had already told him to just speak to him in English. "Where is it that we are going again?"

Kaiba's chief of internal operations cleared his throat, bringing the attention away from Kaiba to him. Age had not graced this man's features, a result of long hours in the office and little rest at home had left him with permanently wrinkled, dark circles beneath his eyes and sallow complexion. "We are going to..." He paused a moment, and then continued. "I suppose you Americans would call the establishment a hostess club. It is a private club that the corporation has special rights with and this evening, Mister Vaughn has graciously rented the entire club for our celebration."

Said Mister Vaughn, CEO, paled at the mention. His expression stated he had not been aware of that particular facet of the business protocol common in Japan. It was well-known among the various corporation of Japan that offering to lead the after-hours entertainment meant that the one offering would be the one to settle the bill. Kaiba felt a slight smirk tug at his lip. He could feel that the other executive wanted to bow out of what would amount to a very large expense item. A younger man who had served as a translator that Kaiba had seen leaned over to Vaughn and whispered in his ear. Apparently, he just educated the man on protocol and the CEO appeared to accept this duty. Kaiba had almost hoped the man would baulk at the expense and lose face.

Crawling to a stop, they arrived at a nondescript building in the heart of the metropolis. Further down the avenue, gaudy neon lights offered tantalizing delights to the passerby. Here it was quiet and almost like a residential sector. However, the crimson glow within walking distance marked this as part of the entertainment district. Except for the act of vaginal intercourse, all other sexual acts were legally available for sale in Japan and bright signs declared this. Interspersed between those massage parlors and love hotels were various bars that would happily part a customer from his money after a long days work in one of the many corporations of the city.

Regardless, these facts were from from Kaiba's mind at the moment. He had a singular purpose to use this opportunity to probe the company's CEO and subsequently seal the deal at this seemingly innocuous club. Kaiba knew that the hostesses here would never leave a cup empty. They never had in the past, and they never would if they wanted to keep the corporation's patronage.

A man in a smartly tailored dark suit, obviously a club valet, opened the door for him from outside. As Kaiba exited the limousine, he could sense the surprise from the valet. The man quickly spoke into an earpiece, announcing that Seto Kaiba had actually arrived with the entourage.

Other men employed by the club quickly exited from the building to lead them inside. A flurry of activity coalesced in front of him as young and beautiful girls were led out from the bowels of the club to introduce themselves. The Americans in the group gaped and animatedly chatted to themselves about the beauties arrayed in front of them like so many flowers waiting to be plucked. Kaiba narrowed his eyes at them. To him, they were nothing more than boys playing at men.

An older, stately middle-aged woman walked through the throng of young women dressed in the latest street fashions. Her clothing was a silk iromuji, a type of kimono reserved for tea ceremonies. Darker tones of imperial purple created a vivid contrast to her pearl-white skin. A faint upraised pattern of chrysanthemums lined the lower half of the robe. An equally dark-toned green obi was tied tightly around her waist in a drum bow. Her tied-back hair was devoid of any ornamentation.

"Master Kaiba, it has been so long since you have graced this establishment. You do us a great honor." The mama-san's voice was soft with a lilting quality to it. She bowed low before him. Behind her, the girls giggled in hushed tones as their heavily lined eyes scanned the row of executives.

Kaiba smirked a little when all the chatter from the men ceased. Now, these business associates would require guidance. The myriad subtle ways of the Japanese way of life was completely lost to their usual brashness. However, he was the mama-san would be more than capable of dealing with these flunkies. It was the CEO of the company he just partnered with that he would take to the back with him along with a few select others. He indicated with a slight nod of his head toward the ones he would take to the back with him.

"Mama-san, you do us the honor by entertaining us privately here in this fine establishment with these fine flowers. If you could lead me and my associates to my preferred location, I would be most pleased. The others, please take to the other portions of the club, if you would be inclined," Kaiba said to her, his voice lowered enough that it could not be picked up by those behind him.

She nodded. "I see. Yes, it will be as you will."

Snapping her fingers, several of the most beautiful of the women stood to attention and approached Kaiba's smaller group while the other women separated the others to another section of the club. Each one gazed adoringly up at the chosen few and slipped their arms in theirs. Nervous smiles from the American men greeted these suddenly forward women. A fragile-seeming young woman with platinum dyed hair stood before Kaiba and extended her hand to him.

"If you would come with me, Master Kaiba, I will lead you to your table." Her voice was like honeyed whiskey, sweet and with just a faint hint of huskiness from long nights surrounded by cigarette smoke.

Watching the other group being led away with little fanfare, Kaiba felt as if his plan was moving flawlessly. Those additional staff members would have interfered with the true purpose of this soiree. Kaiba intended to get as much as he could inside this company's head to find out the best ways to exploit them for further gain for his own. As he walked down the darkened hallway, he felt a sharp pang in his chest.

A memory rose up in his mind's eye, overlaying the figure of the pale-haired girl in front of him. Another place, another darkened hall, that led the heart of the most exclusive of clubs blinded his sight. His adopted father's heavy, meaty hand on his shoulder half pushing and half leading him deeper than he wanted to go in that place. A part of him feared this bastion of politics and business amid women who were the perfect mannequins of desire.

He was fourteen the first time he walked into a hostess club. Four years since his adoption, Gozaburo and his authoritative practices had molded Kaiba from a bright-eyed boy with dreams to a cold, calculating teenager. However, this was the world of men, filled with the stale smoke of cigars and the clink of ice in glasses of whiskey. He was scared and did not want to go further. Gozaburo must have felt his hesitation radiating from deep within the boy's body.

"If you wish to rule men, you must rule them through their greed and lust." He laughed at the him. "If you cannot partake with them and overrule them with your capability, then they will not take you seriously in the boardroom, Seto."

A large finger caressed the back of his neck, and Kaiba tried to suppress a shiver of repulsion.

"Of course, if you are still a boy, then you can leave." Kaiba felt immediate relief when the hand left its place on his person, but then it was quickly replaced by abject fear. If he could not prove himself a man to Gozaburo then his and Mokuba's future would be in jeopardy.

He shook his head. "No, I'm not leaving. I can do this."

"Master Kaiba?" The woman's voice cut through his memory.

Shaking his head to clear it, he acknowledged the hostess girl with a nod and continued to follow her to the private backroom.

The room itself was divided from the hallway by a screen that pulled back with a soft swish and revealed its smoky interior. Inside, the group he had selected were already being made comfortable as women attended their needs by filling glasses with fine liquors and setting out salted edamame. Fine gold lighters were being flicked to light cigarettes, and soft music played across the setting.

Caressing his hand lightly, the blonde woman urged him to take a seat in the center of the couch where the other men had gathered. He barely acknowledged her as he took his seat, and she filled his glass with nihonshu.

"Wow. Mister Kaiba, this is..." The American CEO, sitting to his right, paused to find the words. "This is just awesome. I have read of this on the Internet but never expected I'd ever be in some place like this."

Kaiba chuckled, a laugh that was more in the back of his throat. "Yes, well... being one of the top corporations in Japan does have a few perks that we share with our counterparts."

Glancing at a particular dark-haired beauty who was serving his associate, the CEO queried Kaiba, "Do the women... do anything you want?"

"You'll have to ask to find out." Kaiba shrugged as he leaned back against the leather of the couch, sinking into the thick cushions. Acting like he was trying to make conversation, Kaiba asked the other man, "So, what do you think of Tokyo thus far? This is your first time here, is it not?"

Taking a swig of his drink, the man turned his attention back to him. Kaiba lifted his hand in a well-rehearsed and seemingly inconspicuous gesture to one of the girls watching them. She nodded and quickly disappeared behind a curtained partition.

"Well, I'm originally from Texas, so I have to admit that all these small spaces kind of get to me. I don't get how you all live in such tiny places." His Texan drawl was becoming more pronounced as the alcohol made a fiery trail through to his stomach. His accent increasing was not lost to Kaiba.

"It depends. I have lived in both small and large places, they each have their charms." Kaiba frowned. For a moment, another unbidden memory tried to manifest but quickly vanished.

Kaiba's sapphire eyes glanced toward a doorway partially hidden by a screen. Wondering where the girl was, his fingers tapped against the back of the couch where he had slung his arm. Thinking to himself, Kaiba's plan circled around quickly getting this CEO as drunk as possible and having the other man to spill his secrets just as fast. He had done this before with another company before crushing it. Gozaburo had taught him this technique years before Kaiba became the CEO.

"You have to learn how to crush your opposition. A deal in the boardroom means nothing, Seto," Gozaburo implicitly stated. "Toast them with wine and spirits, cater to their fantasies, and steal their secrets when they are most exposed."

A fist slammed down on the table, causing the young Kaiba to shrink back into the couch where he sat next to his adopted father. Old executives surrounded him and they all laughed at the advice the elder was giving to the younger. Kaiba's eyes were wide-open as he watched the women catering the men, pouring drinks and lighting cigarettes. Then, the other corporation's employees were led in and he watched as the debauchery truly began.

Minutes, maybe hours, had passed and Kaiba shook his head to clear it. The drinking was well underway, and the young woman had indeed returned with bottles of the strongest liquors they had available in the club. He was currently watching the Americans getting completely sloshed on the constantly refilled glasses. Kaiba had not told them that they only need put their hand over the cup to stop the constant refilling.

With his memories of the past clouding his mind, he had also imbued far too much than he normally preferred. A part of him was still that child of the past with the crushing weight of his adopted father's gaze upon him. It was as if he was there in that room and not at the same time. Girls were at the microphone singing karoke, the men cheering in English regardless of not understanding what they were saying. He was a part of it, and yet, it still felt like the past had him beneath its thumb.

"Tell me..." Kaiba fumbled on the English language, his tongue felt overly large in his mouth, "Tell me more about your systems for school-aged children."

His Texan counterpart was too busy staring up at the cleavage of a girl who was dancing in front of him as she poured more liquid poison into his glass. His fingers twitched against his thighs, and he obviously wanted to touch the tantalizing flesh in front of him more than he wanted to listen to Kaiba.

Leaning over, Kaiba murmured in the man's ear, "Tell me, and maybe, you might get lucky with the woman in front of you."

Turning and seeming to see the young Japanese man next to him for the first time, the American CEO gave him a loopy grin. "You sure know how to put on a nice party."

Another girl, this one with the platinum-bleached hair, filled up Kaiba's glass for him. He frowned but drank from it anyway. She gave him a coquettish grin as she snuggled up next to him. Kaiba wanted to get out of this place, his mind was filled with too many ghosts of the past and it seemed that the music was trying to pull his heart from his chest. Smoke from lit cigarettes around him curled its way into his lungs, making them feel heavy and polluted.

Instead of listening to himself, he redirected his attention back to the other man and nodded. "Yes, we do. We don't always live in the office, regardless of the world rumors. Now you were saying..."

"Oh yeah... along with games, we create immersive environments that the United States government bought from us. They use them for accelerated training for their armed forces."

Kaiba frowned. He didn't care for governments, much less the forces of said governments. Kaiba Corporation was world renowned with national governments for their advanced weapons technologies before he had redirected them toward gaming. This bit of information had only been a rumor, but now he knew it was true. The little game company had a secret that no one else had known and ironically it seemed they were moving opposite of what Kaiba had done with his company.

"But! Those crazy Army people had it tested on some kids they have in a daycare there. Apparently, it works for more than just gaming purposes. That was why we made it. For our games..."

His eyes strayed back to the brunette still undulating in front of him. Around him, his partners were similarly distracted by nubile women currently on the Kaiba Corporation payroll for the evening. She cocked her head slightly at Kaiba, her dark eyes asking an unspoken question. He nodded.

Part of the deal Kaiba had with this particular establishment was if the women were to allow more than just flirting, the more they would receive in pay. Some would allow it to only go so far and others took it to the extreme, pushing the limits of the law. The closer to that limit a girl got equaled to a higher amount of pay. These were Mama-san's special girls who were well aware of what they had to do and accepted it. The compensation was too tempting.

Distracting him again, Kaiba felt the platinum girl's hands caressing his inner thigh. She was whispering something in his ear. He knew she was trying to be flirtatious. He supposed she would earn some sort of reputation if she managed to bag the Kaiba Corporation CEO, but usually, at this stage was when he would exit. Causing his competitors to be in a compromising position was what his intentions were; he was suppose to be already out of this. However, his limbs felt heavier than usual and his memories wanted to overwhelm him again as his thoughts turned back toward his family again.

"I know what will cheer you up, Master Kaiba." Her voice was seductive with a faint Kyoto accent to it, something he had missed earlier, and her breath was warm against his cheek.

Trying to keep in control, he glanced in the corner of his eye to see the Texan and his girl kissing passionately next to him. The cascade of her black hair kept them just outside the realm of outright indecency. It was lacking with the other paired off couples in the room. Sibilant sighs and moans echoed in his ears.

He turned to face her again. Kaiba's eyes focused on her painted lips. They were like shiny rubies with a shimmer in the gloss and upturned in a half-smile. She hooked her finger to one of her sisters of the club, and a younger women came running over. His eyes continued to follow those twin rubies as they whispered into the girl's ear.

A pale hand with nails painted the same crimson shade pressed itself against the pristine white of his silk suit. Five little drops of blood-red stood out against his chest when he glanced down at the invader. He swallowed. His throat felt dry and constricted. Idly, he wondered if his drinks had been laced with something but he knew the mama-san would never threaten her contract with the corporation. No, this was the result of trying to keep up with that damn Texan. Apparently, the other man had the constitution of those horses he was talking on and on about earlier.

Kaiba shook his head and wondered when did they talk about horses. He couldn't remember. A shaky hand made its way through his hair, and he realized it was his own. At the moment, he felt like he was that child again sitting next to Gozaburo, being educated on the true dealings of the backroom.

"See that girl there? I see you looking at her." His voice was hissing in his ear.

Young Kaiba turned to look at the man he was forced to call father. "Yes, sir."

An eyebrow arched.

"Yes, I am looking at her." His voice was slightly squeaky in nervousness.

"Tell her what you want, and she will do anything you want." Gozaburo's grin was sinister.

The girl that had caught Kaiba's gaze was older than him by several years. She was pert with long ebony hair and a slender body that curved in places he had only seen on the television. He blushed. Gozaburo gave a rough annoyed cough in his throat at Kaiba's nerves over the object of his attention.

"Woman, get over here!" The man yelled at the ebony beauty, and she quickly ran over to them.

She gave a full bow and knelt upon the ground, glancing up at them through long black lashes.

"My son wishes to know a woman."

Blinking, her brown eyes dark as chocolate, she could not help her confusion. The son in question was only a boy. "Sir, he is but a boy..."

Leaning forward and clasping his large hands together, Gozaburo fixed her with a cold stare. "Your point?"

A tray arrived. It was finely polished silver with intricate sakura blossom designs along the edging. Neat lines of fine white powder crossed the surface, reflected by the highly polished metal. Its presence snapped Kaiba out of his memory.

Her voice similar to the girl of the past, the platinum girl smiled as she spoke. "A gift for Master Kaiba, courtesy of Mama-san."

Clapping, the Texan disengaged himself from the woman that had wrapped her limbs around him. They both looked at the tray of cocaine.

"I didn't know you snorted, too." His smile was lopsided from the heavy amount of alcohol he had ingested.

Kaiba tried to look away from the tray but instead found himself staring at the pale, almost-white hair of the women offering the drug instead. A different memory came into his mind now. One from late last night of holding someone with long white hair who tasted of tears and cream. A person who had ignited a fire in him that had him half-awake for the rest of the night. Someone who he should not have kissed.

He heard the other man press the end of a glass straw on the surface of the tray and snort the powder. A man's man. Someone he should emulate. That was what Gozaburo had told him over and over again, screaming it with each fall of the belt on his bare skin. Kaiba needed to become a man and act like a man and be a man.

Cocaine was not new to him. In fact, Gozaburo had made sure to teach Kaiba the finery of its use as well. Rules came unbidden to his mind of never become addicted. However, why was it he felt drawn to it right now. Physical desire warred with the fears trying to manifest themselves in his mind.

"Master Kaiba?"

She was between his thighs now. Her little tray in hand with a couple unspent lines remaining for him to inhale. A carefully wrapped unused, glass tube on the left side, and a little bottle of nasal spray above them. Red lips were half-parted as she stared at him. Her eyes the same as the girl from the past, the same as those of Bakura. Large, liquid-like, and the color of a frightened doe. Only, this woman was not frightened or vulnerable, not like Bakura. She was trying to tempt him in every way.

He had to get back control of the situation. Kaiba had to be the man in charge. Trying to look around the club for his executives, he found his vision obscured by the heavy clouds of cigarette smoke around them. Time had seemingly sped up for him, and he could not remember anything of the last several hours except his childhood memories and the new thoughts of Bakura. All memories he didn't want to remember right now. They were weakening him. It was obvious. He hadn't even managed to pump all the information he had wanted from the Texan.

Grasping the delicate tube of glass, he angrily ripped the paper wrapping way from it. He tried not to think of what was making him do this as he leaned over the tray and positioned the straw next to a line. One finger closed the free nostril. In the tray, a reflection of himself appeared. Dark circles wrapped the eyes of a man seemingly haunted. A moment of exposure that went unseen by the party goers. Kaiba narrowed his eyes at himself, upset at what he saw there. He stared himself down as he snorted the line of powder into his lungs.

Fire burned his nose and caused tears to form as the drug raced through his trachea and into his lungs. Immediately, it was replaced by an icy sensation that wrapped itself around his innards and comforted him from all the thoughts he had been having. In his brain, the smoke cleared and he could see everyone around him engaged in some form of debauchery. However, they were glancing his way every so often. He imagined that they thought him weak. Kaiba was the head of the corporation and was demonstrating himself as powerless before these people. He knew better than this.

Grinning at his chief financial officer, he snorted up the last offered line and pushed the tray away. It clattered as it hit the ground next to the girl. Without thinking, refusing to think about what he was doing, he grabbed her with one hand as his other went to his belt. She gasped in surprise but did not pull away as he unzipped himself. His fingers tangled themselves in hair that was almost soft as... No, he would not think about him, he screamed at himself. The thoughts banished quickly as he took control of himself through the drug. He head was as cold in equal proportion against his racing, hot blood.

"I want you to suck him." Gozaburo said to the girl in front of young Kaiba.

"Suck me." Adult Kaiba said to the women he held in his hands.

Memory and reality both closed their eyes as lips wrapped themselves around their newly exposed flesh. Both tried to forget the moment just as quickly as deep-seated shame rose up; regardless of the will to ignore the suffocated conscience.


	10. A Father's Training

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

* * *

He couldn't do it. Even though she was skilled, he still couldn't do it. Her tongue could wrap around him in a myriad different ways and the outcome would be the same. A body reacting but with no will behind it, he felt nothing and therefore, she became frustrated that her ministrations were getting her nowhere with him. Strands of her bleached hair caught the faint lighting in the smoky room and made them seem lighter than they were. He was more interested in the seemingly white hair with what she was doing.

"Get off of me." His voice, rough from the hours in the bar, was annoyed.

Instead of doing as he commanded, it seemed the woman was trying to redouble her efforts on him. Kaiba sighed and pushed at her shoulders. Her fingers gripped his hips tightly, refusing to budge as she swallowed his flesh. Ironic, this all began because he didn't want to fail as a man in front of his associates and now she was in the same position, even if that position put her on her knees.

Looking around, he could make out the figure of the mama-san in the back observing what the backroom had degenerated into. Her face was impassive. Long-schooled to this business, she no longer had much reaction to what she would see. Their eyes met briefly. Sapphire on black.

Kaiba sighed. As the drug made its way out of his system from the initial high, he found that he was disgusted with himself. A not-unusual response. On the other hand, it had cleared up the alcohol haze he had been experiencing prior to snorting the cocaine. Near him, people were rutting together in soulless intimacy. He shook his head.

Fed up with the girl in front of him, he pushed her off of him with both hands. He felt her teeth lightly scrape his tender flesh, causing him to wince, as her mouth released the turgid flesh with a pop. Her tears had caused her mascara to run down her cheeks. Kaiba could see the confusion and upset on her face, but he ignored it. Releasing her, he zipped up his trousers.

At that moment, his chief officer had disengaged himself from his own activities to join him. "Mister Kaiba, is everything okay?"

Frowning at the girl in front of him, Kaiba answered him, "Yes, but I need to go home. My brother will worry if I'm out much longer."

It was a weak excuse. He was sure it was well pass three in the morning and this wasn't the first time he had been out all night after a negotiation. However, the other man nodded and accepted the excuse. As far as Kaiba could tell when he glanced around at the others, he had proved himself a man to them. No one was paying much attention to him anymore. However, as to the woman sitting on the ground, he was sure that she had failed some test of her own and as far as he was concerned, that was her own problem and not his.

He stood up, ignoring her as he prepared to leave. She surged forward and grabbed his coattail. Surprised, Kaiba whipped around and stared down the hostess on the ground. At that very moment, in the half light of the dark, smoky room, she reminded him again of Bakura. Vulnerability completely exposed to his gaze alone. It bothered him.

"Please, Master Kaiba, don't leave. I will try harder! Please, forgive me for not pleasing you!"

Kaiba's eyes were cold, like chips of ice, and when he responded his voice was a sneer. "Why would I give a slut like you another chance?"

It had cut her. He knew it when she turned her head down to gaze at her hands laying half-open in her lap. A part of him wanted to tell her to get out of this life and to run as far away as she could, but Kaiba believed deep down that everyone had to live out their choices. He was living proof of it. There was no saving either one of them. He walked away.

As he passed the mama-san, he paused for a moment and thanked her for her hospitality. She nodded and ritualistically responded in kind for him gracing the establishment. All old politeness. All of it was going through the motions and meant absolutely nothing.

He could hear girls whispering to one another just beyond him in the rooms along the hallway. Even though they were too low to make out what they were saying, he was sure he just ruined the career of the girl he had rejected. Maybe it would be better for her this way. Maybe it wouldn't. But then, did it really matter in the end.

Taking a deep breath of the clean air after exiting the club, Kaiba looked down the street toward the main avenue. People still milled about, even at this late hour, under the multicolored neon lights. He should be out there. One of the young partying under an artificial day and laughing as he drank his sorrows away.

"Mister Kaiba?" His driver spoke up, diverting him from the groups just out of reach.

Nodding, Kaiba slipped into the car. Putting his hands behind his head, he watched as they drove pass the crowds. People his age were laughing and playing. He thought ruefully of the choices he had made. At twenty, nearing twenty-one, he already lived the life of a hardened CEO. There was no true childhood for him, he supposed. These kids had their excuses and fun while he slaved day and night for the purpose of his company to give one kid a future. If he didn't, then that would mean he had wasted his entire life all ready. That would be unacceptable.

They arrived back at his mansion. Most of the lights were out and Kaiba was glad for that. It would mean everyone would be sleeping except the night staff. His footsteps echoed on the concrete steps to the entrance. It seemed strangely empty. Looking up at his home, the home he had taken for himself and brother, Kaiba felt a creeping chill make its way up his spine.

He had heard somewhere, maybe some television program on a flight, that the past could cling to a building. No matter how much washing and changing, if you did not destroy the home it made itself that it could return as a poltergeist. After two very strange trips to Egypt, he was willing to accept it as a remote possibility and not outright charlatanism. There were nights he would wake up in a cold sweat and swear he could hear whispers.

A sliver of light began to expand from between the double doors. A tuxedoed figure stood there in the glow, waiting for him. It was Kaiba's trusted butler, Kioshi. Only he had any idea what Kaiba could end up going through when the meeting left the boardroom. The older man gave him a nod, silent understanding of Kaiba's need for silence.

Allowing the butler to service him, Kaiba sat down on the bench in the genkan and let his shoes be removed and replaced by house slippers. It was perfunctory, but welcomed, service. As he entered further into the house, Kioshi stopped him.

"I can prepare you something to eat, if you would like, Master Kaiba."

Queasiness settled into Kaiba's stomach at the mention of food. He shook his head. "That will not be needed. I'm not hungry tonight."

A bow, another one of those nods, and Kioshi disappeared into another part of the house, leaving Kaiba with his thoughts. Sighing, Kaiba ran a hand through his brown hair. He was still wired from the cocaine earlier. When he removed his hand, he stared at it as the fingers shook ever so slightly. He scoffed at himself.

Wandering toward his bedroom, Kaiba pulled off his jacket. Smells of tobacco wafted from the fine white silk. Bringing it too his nose, he sniffed it and grimaced. He'll have to trash this suit, he thought to himself. It'll just end up being another line item to the expense report.

He went into his room and was completely surrounded by oceanic shades of soft blue and white furnishings. Peeling off his tie, he threw it to the ground along with his jacket. Kioshi would see to them in the morning. Flipping on his television, he tried to find relaxation through watching the latest stock reports coming in from around the world. Usually, he was satisfied with what he saw, but tonight, it didn't matter.

Clicking the controller, he turned it off and stood up. Pacing the room, he tried to sort through his thoughts from earlier. Kaiba didn't want to face what he had been remembering. Those thoughts tended to stay in the back of his mind and only wake him up at night. It was like he was living out his own nightmares while awake. It upset him. He thought he had buried them down.

Snatching a robe out of his closet, he decided he would take a shower. He needed to get the stink of the club off of his skin anyways. The sensation of being soiled did not sit well with him. It reminded him too much of the past. Something he didn't want to think about at the moment.

Exiting his room with robe in hand, Kaiba looked across the way to Mokuba's room. His heart constricted with brotherly love. He would do anything to protect his brother from the sorrows of the world. It was a promise that he made to him when they were children in the orphanage. It was the promise he kept when he suffered at the hands of their benefactor and the same that led him down this path of corporate intrigue and after-hours deals and espionage. It was also why Mokuba had no idea what went on after the office negotiations.

Pressing his forehead against the door, Kaiba whispered, "Let him enjoy his innocence just a bit longer…"

Turning away, he noticed that the light under Bakura's door was out. He went and touched a hand to that door. Not even twenty-four hours ago he was in this room restraining the other man from the demons of his nightmares. Kaiba knew he was not a charitable man. Many thought he was because of the free admission for orphaned children to the Kaiba Land facilities. However, he knew he wasn't. Frowning, he supposed the only reason he relented with Bakura was because in a way, he was now just as much an orphan as they were. But that didn't explain why he had kissed him. He put that thought away just as fast as it came.

He continued down the hall to the bathing room, pass other closed doors and expressionless walls. In a way, he find the bleakness soothing to his weary soul. Nothing to stare back at him with accusing eyes that would place blame or weakness on him. Just plain ordinary white walls to greet him.

When he flipped the lights on in the bathing room, everything became washed in bright artificial light. He stripped off the rest of his clothes without fanfare. They pooled onto the ground in a cascade of white silk that he stepped away from. He started the water to the shower, turning the hot as high as he could get it. As steam filled the room, a small wave of dizziness and nausea hit him all at once.

Staggering, he leaned against the wall with closed eyes. Breathing through his nose and out with his mouth, he forced it to abate. All he wanted to do was to get to get clean and then crawl under his sheets to sleep. Biting his lip, the pain bringing some extra clarity, he plunged back under the hot spray. He reached for soap and a sponge, lathering his chest quickly.

When he looked down at his body, he became perturbed to discover a perfect red circle around his cock. Kaiba began to scrub harder against his body to get rid of the offending lipstick. Even though it was quickly washed away, he continued to scrub himself with as much force as he could muster. He couldn't stop himself nor did he want to stop. Kaiba wanted it all off of him. Every shame and touch from that evening, he wanted it to wash away and stay off of him.

Before he could stop it, vomit suddenly spewed out of his mouth and onto the pristine tiles. He collapsed into his own sickness as another wave of dizziness struck him. Hot water pounded his back as he continued to retch all the booze from the club. Weakness spread out across his limbs, and he could barely keep himself on his hands and knees. His vomit was quickly washed away into the drain.

Over the sounds of his vomiting, a memory came into his mind. It was the one memory he did everything he could to avoid and the one that always came back. In the shower. Crying. Eleven years old. Heavy footfalls coming up behind him. A cruel laugh. That heavy hand.

"No... I don't want to remember." His voice was strangled.

"Seto." It was Gozaburo's voice. "What do you think you are doing?"

He thought he was safe in here and that no one would find him crying in the shower. He stuttered when he tried to reply. "Father... I'm... I..."

"Crying? You think you are allowed to cry in my house?" The man yelled at him, his voice bellowing and echoing in the bathing room.

"No, no. I'm not crying. Only boys cry. I just have soap in my eyes. I swear!" Kaiba tried to backpedal, plead with the angry man standing in front him.

Whack! A slap across young Kaiba's face. The older man's hand left a red imprint upon his cheek that burned.

"Lying brat. If you persist to act like a woman, then I will teach you to be a woman."

"What? What do you mean!" Fear seized his heart. He had heard stories in the mansion. There were terrible stories of what his adopted father did to women that were told between the household staff. Many a young maid had disappeared from the mansion after being tempted to share a night with Gozaburo.

"Hmph... maybe it's Mokuba who should be taught. Of the two of you, he is the most girlish. Maybe I should give him my undivided attention."

More tears stung his eyes and as they fell on his quickly bruising cheek, the young Kaiba shook his head. He cried out to his adopted father, "Please, Father! Don't hurt Mokuba!"

He couldn't let them treat Mokuba the way they had been treating him. Kaiba hadn't slept properly for days. He was awakened by Gozaburo's manservant every few hours for this lesson or that. He didn't want his little brother to be whipped like he was because he spelled something wrong or did some calculation incorrectly. Kaiba had promised. It didn't matter what it was, he would take whatever was done to him if it would only protect Mokuba.

As the hot water sprayed down him, Kaiba felt anger begin to surge into his limbs. Punching the tile in front of him, Kaiba wordlessly cried to himself. He fought against the memory of his past and the weakness he had felt that horrible night almost ten years ago. It never went away. It was always there ready to devour him when he was feeling weak. He could never allow himself to be weak again because of it. If he could just keep winning, it would never happen again.

Isn't that why that man did what he did to him. It was to teach him to be a stronger man, because if he was going to be weak, he would be useless to everyone. He had to be strong for the corporation, and he had to be strong for Mokuba. There was no choice in the matter. Kaiba could never display weakness.

"Kaiba?" It was Bakura's quiet, concerned voice.

He couldn't hear him over the roar of his own blood and the water's spray coming down on him. Kaiba trembled like he was freezing even though his skin was already burning and raw from the shower. The hard, unfeeling tiles continued to take his rage.

Wearing just a nightshirt, Bakura had awakened from a near-nightmare. It was just enough that he decided he wasn't going to go back to sleep. Instead, he thought he might sit in a bath for awhile and try to keep himself from having another panic attack like he did earlier and the night before. His nerves were still spent from the events of the last couple of days.

He and Mokuba had a long conversation over dinner that left very few answers to his questions. All Mokuba really could tell him was that their adopted father was cruel and pushed Seto so hard that he felt the bastard had destroyed the carefree brother he had as a little child. As a result, when Gozaburo committed suicide, Kaiba had all family photographs of them with the man removed from the house and ordered that no family photographs be put on the walls. Mokuba had been happy to have Gozaburo removed from the walls, but he couldn't understand why no new pictures were allowed to go up.

Now, he was in the unexpected position of seeing the same topic of their conversation upset and letting lose some sort of rage on the floor of the shower. Bakura never expected that Kaiba, a man who could be so cold, would be collapsed on the floor of his shower. He was worried he was going to bust his knuckles open when he didn't stop, but he wasn't sure what to do because Kaiba didn't respond to him.

Approaching Kaiba like he was a wild animal, Bakura tentatively called out to him again. No response except a choked sob and falling fist making its impact on the floor. It was like he was caught in a nightmare similar to the ones the white-haired man. However, nightmares was something he could understand. Reaching out to Kaiba, Bakura did what he thought might help. A simple touch might bring Kaiba back from whatever demons were haunting him.

When Bakura's hand touched Kaiba's shoulder, he became deadly still for the space of a second before spinning around and throwing Bakura to the floor. Stars erupted in front of Bakura's eyes when his head connected with the hard shower tiles. Icy fear quickly replaced the shock as he watched Kaiba rear back with a closed fist. Bakura tried to scream, but nothing come out of his mouth. He then tightly closed his eyes from that deadly and unseeing blue stare, waiting for whatever would come next.


	11. You Unravel Me

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

* * *

Squinting his eyes shut from what was to come, Bakura cried out, "Kaiba! It's me!"

They stayed locked in that position for about a minute before Bakura dared to open his eyes again. He was soaked from the hot water cascading off of Kaiba's bare body. Feeling the irony of the situation, he thought to himself that at least it wasn't cold. However, as he focused on Kaiba's face above him, he became surprised by what he saw.

Kaiba was completely open and vulnerable at that moment. Fear had locked itself into the blue eyes that stared at Bakura in shock. He still had one hand pushing Bakura to the ground and the other raised over his shoulder in a fist, ready to smash the face of the man beneath him. Kaiba's breathing was just as rapid as Bakura's, both were frightened.

"Bakura... what are you doing here? Everyone knows not to come in when I'm in here." Kaiba finally broke the silence. His voice was strangled and forced.

Still pressed to the ground, Bakura said, "I didn't know. I'm sorry. Are you OK, Kaiba?"

He blinked. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him. He had just thrown someone more thin and fragile than him to the floor and was ready to pound that person's face, and yet that very same person was more concerned with his state of mind than their own. Releasing his hold on Bakura, Kaiba fell back against the wall of the shower. He began to hysterically laugh.

Struggling a moment, Bakura pushed himself up on his elbows and watched Kaiba. It was rare to see a smile, much less hear this man laugh. He laughed a little with him. Then, the pain from where his head hit decided to manifest itself.

"Ow..." Bakura lightly rubbed the back of his head.

Bakura was still being sprayed by the still running shower. His blue nightshirt clung to him like a second skin, and his white hair was plastered to his face. This was not what he had planned to happen when he decided to take a soak in the bath.

Standing up, Kaiba offered a hand to Bakura and pulled him up. They were within inches of one another. It was then that the enormity of Kaiba being naked struck Bakura. He blushed and glanced away.

Bakura mumbled, "I guess... I'll leave you... to..."

Not wanting to be alone at the moment, Kaiba shook his head. He was worried that his living nightmare would return if Bakura left all of a sudden.

"No, you need to relax from that bump I gave you."

Kaiba also felt bad for knocking Bakura down. He was only an innocent in this. In a way, even though they were about the same age, the hardened young man thought the other was similar to his younger brother. They both shared that innocence he wished he still had. He turned off the shower that was still pelting them with hot water.

Bakura stood there watching him, not sure of what to expect next. One moment, Kaiba was cold as he had always known him to be, and the next, he was kind and almost protective. Then, he was vulnerable as he could be in his lowest moments. He tried not to think what sort of Kaiba the next day would bring. It was too dizzying to keep up. His brown eyes tracked his movements, watching the brunette pull several fluffy white towels from a closet next to the bath.

In the bathing room at the Kaiba Mansion, there were several parts to the room. First, there was the disrobing area that adjoined the large showering stall-like room. Beyond the shower, a large bath awaited. It was large enough to be considered a swimming pool, and two staircases led into its clear depths. Small wafts of steam rose from the heated placid and still surface.

Looking back at Bakura, who seemed like a small soaked child, Kaiba gave him a reassuring smile. "Just leave your wet clothes on the floor in the shower so they don't make a mess elsewhere. The staff will take care of them in the morning."

"Oh. Um... Sure." Bakura was not sure how to react, so he simply went along.

Pulling the sopping garment from him, he left it in a small bundle of dark blue cloth by the drain. He felt entirely exposed at the moment. Bakura normally did not let others see him naked. The last time he had been to a hot spring was when he was a child. When he compared himself to Kaiba, he felt like a waif. As Kaiba moved, he could see the fine tracery of muscles just beneath the surface of the other man's skin. For Bakura, those areas of muscles were offset on his own body by jutting bones. He tried to not look in the nearby mirror.

Sighing as he entered the hot water, Kaiba looked over to see Bakura standing there. His brown eyes were unreadable as he fidgeted with his fingers. A faint blush was clearly visible due to the paleness of the thin man's skin, but Kaiba thought that made him seem more porcelain-like. Looking down at the water, Kaiba tried not to think too hard about Bakura just a few feet away. It was stirring something unexplainable in him.

"Are you coming into the bath?" Was it just him, or did his voice actually crack when he asked that, Kaiba thought to himself.

Bakura nodded and strode over to the staircase. As he entered the hot water, he noticed that there were various benches set into the walls of the pool. Once he was fully submerged in the water, he couldn't believe how deep it was in the bath. Water was up to his neck where he stood and it was like being in large, warm lake. Forgetting about Kaiba for a moment, he laughed and dove under.

Spinning around under the surface, he pulled himself forward with powerful strokes that belied his feeble-seeming frame. When he broke the surface for air, he threw his head back and his sheet of white hair hit the water behind him with a small splash. Bakura stopped playing when he heard the soft chuckle of Kaiba near him.

Kaiba had swam forward and watched Bakura's display in the bathing pool. He also had not missed when the pale man had reemerged like a Grecian god. However, he was still worried about the bump on Bakura's head he had given him. If he was hurt, then Kaiba would be the one responsible and for reasons he wasn't ready to examine, this didn't sit well with him.

"Bakura, stop frolicking and come over here so I can take a look at where your head hit the floor." There was a slight tone of command in his voice.

Nervously laughing, Bakura followed him back over to one of the inset benches. Kaiba directed him to turn his back to him. Feeling him straddle him from behind, Bakura bit his lip as he realized just how intimately close they were at that moment. He thought this was a grand idea to keep biting his lip when Kaiba lifted his hair and his fingers brushed the back of his neck. In his mind, Bakura kept telling himself this was nothing and that he was only examining him.

Kaiba gently probed Bakura's head to look for any bumps. As his fingers moved through his hair, he could not believe how soft his hair was in his hands. It was like fine strands of white silk, and they caught the light with a shimmering radiance. Then, he felt Bakura suddenly flinch. He had found where his head had caught the impact. He frowned to himself. He actually felt bad for hurting him.

Leaning forward, Kaiba said in a low voice next to Bakura's ear, "I'm afraid I gave you a nasty bump. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Not able to stop himself, Bakura laughed nervously again.

Still very close to Bakura, close enough for Bakura to feel Kaiba's hair against his cheek, he shook his head. "No. It's not okay. I should not have done that. Do you forgive me?"

Panic was setting into Bakura. He quickly placed his hands over himself under the water. This closeness and the intimate way that Kaiba was talking to him was arousing him. Fear set in that if Kaiba discovered this that he would be angry or embarrassed with him. His breathing had quickened as well, matching in time to his heartbeat.

"Of course. I forgive you. You didn't mean to hurt me." Bakura groaned to himself when his voice came out closer to a squeak.

Bakura almost sighed when Kaiba finally pulled back. The other man's nearness was causing the tenacious hold he had left for a sane evening to fly away. Then, he almost jumped when he felt warm water cascade upon his shoulder and the soft touch of the sponge.

Pausing in his ministrations, Kaiba wondered if maybe he should not be doing this. However, he did owe Bakura for being understanding.

"Does this bother you?" Kaiba asked him, the tone low and thoughtful.

He saw Bakura shake his head.

"I just feel that I should do something for you. Your understanding and forgiveness of my ill actions... means a lot to me."

"Oh..." Bakura replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kaiba continued to sponge Bakura's back. Occasionally, his thumb or fingertips would come in contact with his flesh. His back was soft and smooth, free of any blemish. The skin as pale as alabaster. Berating himself, Kaiba frowned as he realized he was touching him more and more on purpose and less on accident.

"Bakura, do you want to talk about what happened this morning?"

"I..." He hesitated. Should he share what those nightmares told him.

Feeling the sudden withdrawal from Bakura, Kaiba turned his head and said, "It's OK if you do not want to talk about it. I shouldn't have asked."

He nodded and Kaiba continued to bathe Bakura. For several minutes, the only sound was that of the water as he would dunk the sponge and then squeeze it out over those bird-thin shoulders and slender neck. Kaiba noticed that they were initially stiff but over during his sponging, but they had relaxed. It made him smile a little bit to know he was making some reparations.

"I was having a nightmare about my sister," Bakura finally said, breaking the silence.

Thinking for a moment, Kaiba responded, "Amane? Right?"

Bakura turned. Kaiba hand's fell along the ridge of his arm with the movement. Trying not to blush from the caress of that hand, Bakura looked down again. His eyes were hooded, hidden by his long white lashes.

"Yeah..."

Leaning his arm against the wall of the bath and letting the other dangle in the water, Kaiba waited for him to speak.

"I told you before that she died in a car accident... when we were in children." Bakura's voice caught. He wasn't sure if he should be sharing this with Kaiba.

It was strange, but Kaiba seemed genuinely interested in what caused his nightmares. Already, the night had been very long and painful. Maybe if he shared his secret with someone, anyone, perhaps those nightmares would abate. Still, he hesitated. Maybe he wasn't ready, he thought ruefully to himself.

Sensing the hesitation from Bakura, Kaiba probed, "You don't have to tell me about the nightmare. I was just curious. You can tell me about your sister instead."

That seemed to do the trick and he was rewarded with a the slightest of smiles. Kaiba smiled back, encouraging Bakura. In his own mind, Kaiba was morbidly curious about Bakura's sister. It also did not hurt that focusing on his issues would ensure that he could forget about his own.

"Amane was so beautiful and smart. She really was. Even though she was only four when she... when she..." His voice caught. "When she died... She knew all sorts of songs and she loved flowers."

He leaned back against the wall, not really thinking about Kaiba's arm now being wrapped around his shoulders. Leaning his head back, Bakura looked up at the ceiling as he continued.

"She always wanted me to sing with her. Sometimes it was annoying, but Mother encouraged it. This was when Mother and Father were still happy, before the accident and illness. We would all clap and sing on the porch, dancing any time of day.

"Even though I thought I was becoming a man because I was at school, it still felt good to come home to her happy hugs and kisses. She missed me when I went to school, you see."  
Sighing, Bakura added, "I should have appreciated her more."

"What do you mean?" Kaiba tilted his head to the side.

"My first year of school, I was enthusiastic to get the hugs and kisses, but in the second year, I felt sometimes embarrassed by her. She would run down the driveway yelling Ry-ou!" Bakura imitated the pronunciation. "If I had other schoolmates with me, I would withdraw from her and that made her cry. Mother would sternly reprimand me for being mean to Amane. I guess I never could imagine any of our family disappearing or dying in those days."

Bakura's voice was soft, just barely above a whisper, and yet, it caressed Kaiba as he spoke. Kaiba was caught watching the movement of Bakura's throat as he talked. He was engrossed in what the man laying against his arm was saying, but another feeling was trying to creep its way into him. As he was about to withdraw himself away from Bakura, the other man started speaking again, captivating him with his story.

"However, she would never stop singing. All the common songs of childhood we would sing. She couldn't get enough. And I was her partner in these songs. Her voice was so pretty with its joy and innocence. I remember this now. At the time, I thought she was the classic girl. High-pitched. Annoying. A pest born just to torment and follow me around. And at the same time, someone to share secret fears with and join in secret adventures.

"There was another thing that set her apart. Another one of her joys was the flowers. Mother was very good at flower arrangement. She could see stories anywhere. I suppose that was what encouraged Amane. Anywhere that Father's company took us, they would be outside gathering the wildflowers and arranging them in such beautiful displays."

His eyes became hooded, lost in his memories and the transformation fascinated Kaiba. Bakura's face had lost the fine edges of strain that had been present for days. It was now smooth, and the expression wistful.

"I would join them. Sometimes I wouldn't. I was confused and caught between the longing for my mother and sister's company and the fears of boyhood insults. I did not wish to be thought weak and a sissy in front of the few boys that I had garnered a friendship.

"I had to play the little man of the house.

"I never thought... I never knew..."

Bakura choked up, his shoulders shaking as a sour lump of tears formed deep in his throat. Childhood transgressions tortured him more keenly than the stones of later deceit. Kaiba reached out in the same fashion as Bakura had reached for him earlier. His hand connected to that shivering flesh, calming the other man. Bakura wiped at his eyes, took a breath and continued speaking with no verbal prompting on Kaiba's part.

"It was her favorite flower, the daisy. Mother said it meant faith. She had this stuffed animal that Mother had sewn a daisy onto. Amane carried it everywhere. In the car... In the car she was holding it. Even her jumper had little daisies sewn into it. I can still remember every detail of her when... when.

"I should have reached for her! I was scared as much as she, but she was reaching for her big brother and I failed her! I failed Amane! I could have grabbed her if I tried harder! She wouldn't have died if I had … I failed her!"

Bakura slammed his closed fist against the surface of the water, causing a splash to whip up and smack him in his face. It didn't matter to him if he choked on the water. It was what he deserved. The dark spirit who had taken him told him as much. If only he had tried harder. It must had been his fault, his subconscious must not have loved Amane enough. There was no faith left with her gone. He closed his eyes as a wave of sorrow washed over him.

Kaiba gently turned Bakura to face him. The other man's head lolled slightly, not wanting to be seen. Droplets still clung to his face and glistened like diamonds, and it was at that same moment Kaiba saw that it wasn't just water on Bakura's face. There were tears there that sparkled in the low lights. By getting him to talk to him about his own problems, and avoiding his own, Kaiba had caused him to cry. When they opened and looked at him, those brown eyes were full of grief. It struck a cord in the man known more for having a heart of ice.

He wanted to comfort him, he needed to comfort him, he made Bakura cry, and he told himself that was why he did what he did next. Maybe he needed comfort as well. His own past was just as full of nightmares, but he had locked himself in his tower of glass, safe and untouchable. Maybe, just for this moment, he could let go of the lock and simply be in the moment.

Bakura's half-sob was caught in his throat when Kaiba suddenly pulled him toward him. He had never been this intimately and physically close to another person in all his life. Heart racing, one part of him wanted to run away from this touch. It had seemed to him that he had hurt everyone in his life and that he deserved everything that the spirit told him. He had to be a terrible person. Fresh tears escaped his eyes.

Hands coming up between him and Kaiba, Bakura tried to push away. He expected Kaiba to release him, and this Kaiba he did not understand would vanish. Instead, the brunette gave him a little shake of his head and pulled even tighter. Water on Kaiba's skin and the pressure from his embrace caused Bakura's arms to find their way around the other man's neck. He clung to him, afraid he would drown from the confusion he was feeling inside.

It felt like he was holding tight to a frightened bird in his arms. Kaiba could feel heat radiating off of Bakura's flesh where it touched his own. His arousal was sudden and unexpected. As he looked into those frightened brown eyes, that was when it hit him that he wanted Bakura in ways that were wholly against what he had been taught. At the moment, he didn't care.

Looking up into Kaiba's eyes was like being caught in the hypnotic gaze of a thousand sapphire crystals. Bakura sensed a change ripple through Kaiba and those terrible and beautiful eyes shifted. A new emotion had darkened them with violet-blue flames. Without thinking, just reacting, Bakura pulled himself tighter against the man whose gaze had caught him in their depths. Their lips were a breath apart.

Wet, white hair tangled itself in Kaiba's hands as he moved them to cup Bakura's face. His thumbs caressed just under those eyes that were enrapturing him, brushing away the tears. Then, Bakura closed them as his lips parted, silently inviting and begging Kaiba. They came together of the same volition. Their lips pressing, then crashing against each other, as they lost themselves to their kiss.


	12. Rationalize What You Will

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

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For one brief moment, when they pulled away to catch their breaths, Kaiba tried to ask himself what was it he was doing with this other man, but then those thoughts were quickly forgotten when he looked into Bakura's half-lidded eyes, lost with a new expression. This was a look he did not want to lose yet. It was an expression he had never seen before on another person's face, and he feared that if he let it go he would never see it again. A driving need was wrapping itself tightly within him that was beyond the physical. He pulled the other man back into his arms and sought out his lips once more.

Bakura was sure he was going to die when Kaiba's lips pressed against his again. Fear tried to twist itself into his heart. Bakura wasn't sure how to react. He suddenly found himself drowning above the water. For so long, he had accepted the easy graces of those who followed him with their eyes, proclaimed him an idol, but he had always felt a shyness and distance, in part due to his past, and kept away from the easy fruits. Kaiba had taken that distance and destroyed it. Each minute of feeling those arms wrapped around him were pulling him away from the ceaseless ebbs and flows of his sorrows, and creating a new ocean of feeling that simultaneously warmed and burned him. Gripping tightly to the brunette, Bakura clung to Kaiba's shoulders, afraid to let go and find that this was just a hazy dream born from another nightmare.

In the large bathroom of shining white tile and steamy vapors, soft splashes and sibilant sighs echoed against the walls and across the rippling water. Theirs was a desperate game of passion and need. Neither one unable to stop what they were doing to think, drowning inside the other as lips threatened to steal the breath of the other and hands slid against warm, wet skin. Kaiba and Bakura were locked in an embrace so tight as to leave a faint tracery of fingerprints against the more tender skin of the white-haired man and light scratches bled freely across the darker flesh of the brunette.

Their sharp angles found new places in which to join together when Kaiba pulled Bakura up tighter against him. Heedless of what was happening around him, Bakura's head fell back and exposed his neck to further nips and and kisses from Kaiba. It seemed to him that Kaiba was in perfect control of this uncontrollable situation and Bakura was content in just allowing himself to die in his arm if that was necessary. The word that escaped him of what this was is passion. It was his first time to feel all-consuming passion that did not involve the shadowy sensations that he had felt from the being that had controlled him so long ago.

For Kaiba, it was almost exhilarating to touch someone that did not want to be touched for a reward. It was also, deep inside, a taboo and risk that he was taking by engaging himself with Bakura as he was. The rational side of him laughed at what he was doing, and compared him to acting the impulsive child trying to buck against what was expected of him. However, the emotional side, always kept so bottled and neatly compartmentalized had broken free and was ripping apart through all those self-imposed rules of society like so many sheets of paper. It didn't matter. This was their time and he was needed, wanted, and desired by someone without guile. This was truth.

He pulled Bakura up to face him in his aroused, darkened blue eyes. "We should..." He tried to say but his voice cut itself off. Kaiba found himself lost in the lines of Bakura's throat and his eyelids lowered as he focused on the contrasting shades of his lovebites upon the white flesh. He wanted to tell him they needed to go to his room.

Bakura felt the caresses stopping and heard the barely whispered words of Kaiba. A darkness plunged inside him. Of course, he was foolish to even consider this and to think that someone like Kaiba might even find him interesting. A self-esteem that barely existed in the quiet man ate upon itself like the snake and its tale as he filled in the next words he thought Kaiba would say. He pushed away from the other man and tried to look anywhere but his face.

"You're right. I'm sorry... We shouldn't have..." Bakura could feel the hard lump building in his throat as fresh, hot and salty tears built up on his eyelashes. He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling suddenly cold in the warm water. He turned away from Kaiba.

For a moment, Kaiba wanted to reach out to Bakura but that side of him, the rational one, which he had relied upon to survive all his life took over once again. He climbed out of the bath without allowing a word to pass from his lips. Inside, a fire was raging within him. Bakura had denied him. Bakura had pushed him away. His fists clenched and unclenched themselves, sharp fingernails dug a path of half-moons on the palms. Turning away from the man still in the water, Kaiba stalked over to the piles of towels and began to dry himself off with rough strokes. They did nothing to stop the fire that burned still inside of his skin. Blood trailed onto his chin from where he had bit his lip in an unconscious attempt to wipe away the memory of just minutes before. He didn't hear Bakura exiting the bath and approaching him.

When he had heard Kaiba exit the tub, Bakura might have been able to immediately stop him if he had only looked. Fear had gripped him with its icy touch, and insecurity had filled his cup with tears. He had kept his eyes downcast and away. It was the sound of the movement, the harshness of Kaiba's ragged breath that had made him turn to look again. His back was turned to him, but the mirrors reflected the expression on the man known for destroying others. As he slipped out of the water, Bakura could see how it was turned outward at him, but what was surprising him was how it was turned inward as well. He wondered if he had been wrong, did he assume incorrectly what Kaiba wanted. He then saw the blood begin to trail from the lips he had been kissing.

He was scared. It seemed ever since he had been released by the spirit he had never found a moment's rest from fear but at this moment in time, he didn't want to lose this and it was something that had never been touched by the prior horror. His heart was beating so hard that it might burst his chest, but Bakura told himself he had to act. How much time had passed from when he had found Kaiba on the floor, maybe an hour or so, and how much had changed in the space of such a short time. Everything.

Bakura could see his fingertips as they tried to reach that shoulder, and he watched as they just as easily fell back down. Kaiba was already stalking out of the bathing room, flinging a white terrycloth robe over his lightly tanned, muscular frame. Turning back to the mirrors, to where Kaiba had just been standing and staring at himself in anger, Bakura looked at himself. He was always so delicate he thought to himself. The marks of Kaiba's desire decorated his arms and neck. His lips were swollen from where the other man had sucked on them. Shadows lined his eyes, making him seem like a bruised ghost in the reflection.

"Idiot," he chastised himself. He was still confused by what had happened, but happened it had.

Picking up a discarded towel, he brought it to his nose and smelled the light scent of Kaiba's skin on it. He wanted to throw it down suddenly and then run away as far as he could. It was hurting him. For some reason, this scent was causing his heart to painfully constrict. It almost reminded him of those few other times when that had happened, and they were only connected to Amane and Mother's deaths. He quickly looked back at himself in the mirror.

Bakura had always been superstitious. His dabbling into the occult was no mere happenstance. There were things he had wanted and had tried to achieve, but he never succeeded with those practices. Then, when he was taken over by the malevolent entity of Zorc Necrophades, he knew that all those horrifying stories of the night were true and that anything was permissible. Grabbing a robe to cover himself, he raced out of the bathroom after Kaiba, still clinging to his discarded towel.

Before he had made it a few feet down the hall, an arm suddenly reached out to block his path. The palm was pressed squarely against the wall to his right. His eyes trailed along where flesh met the white of a robe like the one he was wearing and along the shoulder. He could see how the robe had been loosely tied because the lightly muscled chest was laid bare to his eyes. Even in the dimness, he could make out each sharp line that had previously been pressed against him.

"Nothing happened." Kaiba's voice was rough, clipped, no longer like honeyed whiskey. It was ragged and sandpapery.

Holding the wet towel in his two hands, Bakura forced himself to look pass the rise and fall of Kaiba's chest and to bring his eyes over the jutting chin. He stopped at the tight line of Kaiba's lips, still stained red from the self-inflicted wound. The thought came up quickly that he wanted to touch them to see if they were still wet. He tried to quickly quash it.

Swallowing hard to keep his calm fury, Kaiba repeated himself. "Nothing happened."

He was still upset at being denied. It was not everyday that Seto Kaiba was denied anything. Here was this dripping wet waif of a man standing in front of him and it was he who was the one to deny him. It had been years since something he wanted was denied. Not since the events of Egypt and Atemu, as he later found out his name was, from years ago had he suffered defeats or denials. It stood out in his mind in large, stark letters with sharp edges that cut him.

As he thought more upon it, his mind spun at the thought that even engaging in any sort of action with Bakura would have spelled folly for his goals and the enterprise of Kaiba Corporation. This was a passing weakness due to the earlier portion of the night. Those memories... No, better to not think about his adoptive father and what he had done. Yet, what was he doing. In this way, was he trying to become like him through use of Bakura.

Finally, Bakura met Kaiba's eyes and could see the dangerous gaze that had faced many a person down across a field of play or the boardroom table. Even in the half-light of the hallway, they were like blue flame and when they narrowed at him, he could feel their heat radiating toward him. However, in his peripheral vision, he could see Kaiba's arm that was blocking him had started to tremble.

It was the trembling that caused him to do what he did next. At least, that was what Bakura would tell himself later when he was alone in his room. He reached out to Kaiba to touch his lip where he had bit himself through. His spidery fingers, pale appendages from a white-skinned hand, stroked against the torn flesh and their tips became stained red.

Kaiba tried to step back from Bakura and his feathery touch. His own eyes widened as he looked back into the other man's fathomless brown eyes. They seemed to shine with their own inner light and to reflect back at him from their liquid depths. A sudden sensation of drowning tried to come upon him. He reached out with his other hand to pull this gentle intruder away only to find himself stopped. Bakura had reached at the same time to clasp his hand with his free one. Instead of fighting against him, as he tried to will himself, Kaiba twined his fingers with Bakura's.

His voice the barest whisper, Bakura said to Kaiba, "I'm sorry."

Lips twisting into a cruel smile against Bakura's bloodstained fingers, Kaiba responded, "For what? There is nothing to apologize for. Like I said, nothing happened."

Both of their eyes flickered from the others to the tightly clasped hands and back to their faces. Kaiba could taste the saltiness of his blood and the sweetness of Bakura's fingers against his lips when he flicked his tongue to moisten them. Bakura's soft shudder at that action was also equally observed.

"Nothing happened." Bakura's voice echoed back, trembling.

Kaiba released the wall with the hand that had been pressed there and placed it upon Bakura's shoulder with all intentions to push him out of his personal space. At that same moment, Bakura closed the space between them. This caused Kaiba's hand to slide from his shoulder to the small of his back. Even with the layer of thick cotton between hand and back, both could feel the radiating heat.

In trying to figure out what had changed, Kaiba was completely unprepared for an aggressive Bakura. He continued to step into the rapidly dwindling space that had been between them and instead of pushing him away, Kaiba had his hand pressing harder at his back, urging him forward. Their other hands, still clasped together, came up between them. Kaiba felt Bakura's fingers at his lips leave and saw them pass to the man's lips. He then watched what he felt at that moment was singularly the most erotic thing he had ever seen when the pale man licked Kaiba's blood clean from those fingertips. With just a slant of illumination coming from the bathing room, it created a series of shadows that left him bathed in angles of light and dark that further incited the scene in front of Kaiba.

His throat felt incredibly dry as he tried to speak. "Bakura, what are you doing?"

Bakura tilted his head up, he was so close that he was stealing Kaiba's breath now. With his advances, it had caused Kaiba to be pressed against the wall. If he had thought about it, the irony might had made him smile, but at the moment, he was entirely focused on Kaiba. A small part of him, the part that could stand up and fight back was upset that Kaiba had called what had happened in the bathing room nothing. Usually the meek and mild, the one who would step away first, Bakura could not do this at this very moment in time. In the morning, perhaps when this insanity had passed, but not right now. Not with the taste of Kaiba's lips and blood still in his mouth. He had lost so much already, and he wasn't ready to lose this moment.

"Absolutely nothing." He threw Kaiba's words back at him.

Kaiba had but a moment to quickly draw in a breath before Bakura kissed him. He stayed as still as a statue, feeling the other's warm lips caressing his own sore ones. In his mind, he raged at being the foolish one. He could not figure out what Bakura's game was but this was not acceptable. Kaiba had to stop this somehow. However, with each agonizing second of pain and pleasure, his body grew rigid and desire flowed through him like liquid fire.

It was when Bakura licked at Kaiba's wounds and sought entry into his mouth that unraveled him. He was unprepared for Kaiba's reaction. Bakura tried hard not to cry out in pain when Kaiba pushed him to the other side of the hallway, slamming him against the wall as his lips took his almost painfully in response to his kiss' probing. Nails scratched at Bakura's shoulders, ripping the robe down from them as Kaiba landed hard, teeth-laden kisses along the ridge of his collar bone and shoulders. When he felt the turgid member of the other man pressed against his abdomen and own desire , he gasped out.

Making his way back up along the birdlike shoulders, Kaiba sucked hard against the skin of Bakura's neck and left his mark there as he seized him again in another brutal kiss. His hands scratched their way along the bony ribs to the jutting hips. Palms wrapped themselves behind the thin, sinewy thighs and lifted the death-pale man upward against the wall. He could hear Bakura gasping, trying to desperately regain his breath but he was not about to let him as he wrapped his tongue once more around his in another desperate kiss.

Panic was bubbling within Bakura. He felt completely at mercy. For that brief moment, right before he had kissed Kaiba, he had been the one in control and now he no longer was. He tightened his legs around Kaiba's waist for fear of slipping, though it was unlikely with the grip the brunette had on him. He could feel that same erect member that was at his waist now just below him, teasing at him. He clung, scared of what would happen next, scare of what wouldn't happen next.

Pressing harder into him with his chest, letting his body stroke against the most taboo of spots, Kaiba felt control of the situation again. He could feel Bakura's heart racing against him. The breathing was uneven and ragged, like his own. However, after feeling like he was being pushed away once, he was not going to be the one left wanting. His mouth released Bakura's to swirl his tongue against the tender flesh of his ear.

"Is this what you want, Bakura?" He breathed into his ear.

Bakura could only moan as Kaiba pushed hard against him.

"You have to answer me. Is this what you want?" He bit his ear this time, to jar him back into the moment.

"I... I..." Bakura couldn't form a sentence.

A sardonic grin graced Kaiba's features as he slid one hand further and across Bakura's buttocks, supporting all his weight there and with the press of his body as the other slipped between their stomachs. Kaiba's fingernails lightly scratched the seeping tip of Bakura's need as his other hand's fingers stroked against his perineum. Bakura trembled in his arms.

"I said, is this what you want?" He pulled Bakura in two directions.

Tears broke out from Bakura's eyes as he struggled to put into words what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted or what he was doing. Fear and passion was fighting him in both directions, shame coupled with them to create a tapestry of confusion that locked his tongue from being able to form the words.

Kaiba smiled at himself, satisfied, as he licked the tears away and then he released Bakura completely, letting him fall to the ground at his feet. Inside of him, a part exhilarated in that Bakura would have let him do what he wanted and the other, in spite of what he really wanted, was determined to punish him for his embarrassment earlier. In Kaiba, the vengeful side won out. He looked down at the crumpled man at his feet.

"Obviously, it isn't what you want and you were enjoying teasing me." That voice, was it really his that was so cold. Kaiba shook his head and continued. "As I said before, nothing happened."

He stepped back and gazed steadily down at the hurt eyes and willed himself to betray nothing. As he had said, nothing had happened. Then, why did it feel like everything had happened. Tears were running down Bakura's cheeks, and his lips were trembling. Even in the faint light, Kaiba could see the damage he had already done to him as dark purple bruises blossomed like so many flowers across that pale skin.

Turning away from that hurt look that was threatening his inner calm, Kaiba tightened the belt of his robe. He stalked away, pushing down the feelings that had threatened him. Behind him, he thought he heard Bakura whisper his name, but he ignored it. He told himself, he had to.


	13. You and Me, Me and Him

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

**

* * *

**

"Kaiba..." Bakura whispered his name as he watched the other man stalk away from him. His hand had even reached out of its own accord. Kaiba did not turn around and left him sprawled and half-naked on the floor of the hallway. Silence and cold surrounded him now, replacing the heat that had formally danced across his skin.

Pulling his legs up close to his body, he wrapped his arms around his shins and laid his head on his knees. His hair was still wet and the dripping water melded with his tears. He was always so emotional, he bitterly thought to himself, even if he didn't always show it outwardly. Bakura rubbed a hand over his face, wiping away the salty tracks. His mind wandered as he thought of his overly delicate features. The very same ones that the girls at university fawned were far to feminine to be male. An androgynous creature. Kaiba was right, he didn't know what he wanted. His body was not even sure of what he was. Perhaps he had been teasing him by chasing after him.

Bakura sniffled and tried to hold at bay the wellspring of hurt that was threatening to overcome him. Regardless of what had happened in the bathing room, Kaiba leaving him upon the floor like this made him feel less than human and more like he was a piece of trash to be discarded. It was eating him up inside like a poisonous cancer. He closed his eyes as he rocked himself, trying to soothe the battered ego that held more scars than his body could ever show.

A few moments later, he decided he should get up and go back to his room, but when he opened his eyes it seemed that the night had already been overtaken by the day. Innocent, bright light bathed the entire formally dark hallway and washed away the formally sexually charged and mysterious atmosphere. Pulling himself up with the wall, he looked around and rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Bakura thought to himself that he must have cried himself to sleep. Pulling his robe closer around him, he saw that Kaiba's towel was still on the floor. He stooped and picked it up. Without thinking about it, he buried his face in its soft material and took a deep breath. Kaiba's scent still clung to the material.

When he pulled the towel away from his face, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he realized how silent it was around him. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and the blood rushing just under the surface of his skin. It reminded him of the tombs in Egypt and of memories he didn't want to remember. Things that were better left in the sands of the past. His heart began to race faster the longer he remained under the white light.

Trying to find something to do to shake the feeling of dread from his shoulders, he strode into the bathing room to return the towel. Bakura's mind desperately sought to associate this ordinary activity to create an ordinary perspective of his surroundings. This failed him completely when he stepped over the threshold into the shadowy darkness of the room. Instead of formerly stark white tiles and simple utilitarian lines, a canvas of grays and blacks presented themselves to him. Even the air felt heavy and thick, like he was breathing in part of the shadows with each nervous breath that passed his trembling lips.

A splash and low, throaty chuckle nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. He turned his sightless eyes toward the disturbance and tried to make out what it made the noise. It was then that the shadows seemed to part just enough for him to see a pair of figures in the bath. He could make out some movement but from this distance it was difficult for him to know what they were doing. Whatever it was, they were pressed tightly against one another. Bakura's felt drawn toward them and did not notice that he was walking deeper into the darkness.

Pale legs were slung over darker skinned shoulders. This was the first image to become clear in the gloom. And then, arms that matched the supports to those thin legs were pressed on the edge of the bath. They acted as a counter weight as the owner of the pale flesh was bore into by the darker being. With each thrust, the lightly muscled arms would bend outward. The couple was a play of light and dark, the glowing pale one had faint colored hair and the one that seemed to be in control had a mop of hair that appeared black in the shadows that surrounded them.

As he realized what this pair were doing in the pool of water, a hot blush spread out across Bakura's cheeks. He was an intruder and interloper, and he thought to himself that he should not continue to be a voyeur to this erotic display. Yet, regardless of all the standards of behavior that had long engrained themselves within him to run, he stood stock still and continued to watch. A certain thrill filled his senses as he witnessed them caught in their throes. He tried to think of who this couple might be and if perhaps they were like naughty servants playing with their master's possessions. Bakura quickly glanced over his shoulder into the illuminated hallway. Seeing no one there, he stepped even further into the darkness. He rationalized to himself that he was merely going to be a lookout so no one would disturb this unknown couple.

Blending with the clean scent of the water, the musky scent of sex wafted toward him. It caused his lips to become dry, and as he licked them, he remembered that he had nearly been in such a position with Kaiba hours ago. His fingers came to his lips and gently caressed them. They were still tender from those bruising and dominating kisses. During those moments, it had felt like Kaiba was determined to consume him with each blistering kiss. An even more daunting thought crossed his mind, he would have been happy to be consumed.

It was while lost in this thought that he had come closer to the formally distant couple in the bath. He did not remember walking, but now he was just a few meters away. Next to him stood a pillar inlaid with marble that was streaked with gray and blue veins. It was this that offered him a much needed support when his eyes took in the copulating pair. Tilting his head slightly, he thought that the one with the light hair was familiar. He shook the thought from his mind as he took in their play of light and dark, illumination and shadows. They continued without notice of their silent sentinel.

Bakura tried not to think about it, but the scene was arousing him. He could barely see who the receive of this rough attention was, but the one that was heaping it upon the pale one was distinctly male. With each of his movements, Bakura could clearly see fine masculine muscles straining under the skin. However, he could not make out the face of either lover. They were bowed toward one another. It was the excited feeling of curiosity that caused him to move forward a small amount more. He wanted to know this couple. He felt that he had to know them.

Keeping to the darkness, Bakura left his hiding place by the pillar and moved closer to them. He was nervous that his white-on-white complexion would give him away and thus, he kept to the shadows as much as he could. As he watched the movements of the male, he idly wondered what it might be like to thrust into yielding flesh. Would his partner's body open itself to him or would it be difficult to slip into them?

Many times, especially in high-school, girls had approached him with the very though of offering themselves to him. However, shy and nervous before the first trip with Yugi and then petrified thereafter, he had scurried away from their sharp-eyed expectations. Instead, he poorly relieved his desires with his own hands and imagination. He frowned to himself. There was so little he knew.

Heat began to race through his bloodstream as he came closer to the lovers. His eyes roamed over the exposed shoulder and arm that were shiny with sweat or water. Unbidden, his mind turned toward his own experience in this same bath hours earlier. Regardless of his lack of carnal knowledge, he had been ready to let Kaiba do anything to him. Caught between humiliation and desire, Bakura told himself that his thoughts were shameful and inappropriate, but at the same time, one hand had begun to slowly stroke his abdomen. Flashes of Kaiba's amethyst eyes silenced the shame.

Regardless of how hot he was feeling, his entire body shivered. A realization began to take hold into him as he glanced at the couple in the pool through his white lashes. If what had begun last night had not stopped, in no small part due to his own stupidity he inserted bitterly, then it would be him and Kaiba there with their limbs entwined and Bakura knew that he would forget where one was separate from the other with each thrust into his flesh. A sigh escaped his limps. If he had not been so foolish, perhaps, but it was too late now to even linger on the thought. A colder then crept into his heated ones that what he was considering would displease his family even more.

Shaking his head at himself, Bakura pushed himself away from the pillar with the intent to walk away and leave the lovers to themselves. However, a shift in movement caused him to refocus on them. As he stared at the male of the couple, a hard lump formed deep in his throat and he thought to keep his cry of shock from escaping his lips. Staring at him from over his partner was Kaiba himself. Those blue eyes that could tear him apart like they did last night were as if they were chips of glittering coral. Bakura struggled to suppress the conflicting emotions that had arisen with this revelation. He was hurt and jealous at the same moment. His hand clinched. He knew he was not ready to look into the abyss of these emotions nor continuing staring into the dark eyes that were drinking away at his essence.

Bakura quickly backed away and found himself trapped between Kaiba and his lover and the column that had been his sole support moments ago. Those blue eyes were tracking along with each of his movements, making him feel completely exposed, but it was the grin that was unnerving him minute by minute more than the shock of seeing Kaiba slaking his lust with another where they had been earlier that night.

"Bakura, where are you going?"

The voice was a whisper. Kaiba's lips had barely moved, and yet Bakura heard him clearly as if he were next to him.

"Isn't this what you want? Isn't this what you desire?"

Each sentence Kaiba uttered was punctuated with a twist of his hips as he thrust deeper into his unknown lover's body. The person he was joined with released a cry of pain and pleasure with each movement.

Bakura shook his head. Inside his mind, he was screaming at himself to run away, but instead he was paralyzed to the spot and could only tremble.

"Not like this," he tried to say, but his words fell away into shocked silence.

Kaiba's lover had turned his pale head to face Bakura.

Bakura was staring at himself. The one writhing and crying out against Kaiba was the very image of himself. It was him with his legs thrown over the other man's shoulders. It was him that was being taken by Kaiba. It was him, and yet it wasn't. Dark with lust, he could see the grin in his doppelganger's matching doe-brown eyes.

"You should admit that this is exactly what you want," hissed the clone, the lips parting to reveal a bright red tongue that flicked out to moisten its lips. "You want him to use you and to throw you away."

In his mind, he could feel himself starting to collapse. It was like his living nightmares all over again when that evil one would take over his body before he had been freed. Under the knife-sharp edge of fear, he could feel himself wanting to beg to anyone that would hear him to tell him if he really was free of Zorc and the other Bakura.

Kaiba continued to smirk as he caressed the false Bakura's face and stared at the real Bakura. "Did you think that I might save you from yourself?" He was echoing his thoughts!

"Is that what you want from me!" Yelling, the brunette's countenance switched from lustful and false gentleness to absolute rage. Kaiba pounded his body into his partner's as he continued to face Bakura.

Stopping his assault and becoming almost soft in his expression, Kaiba leaned closer to Bakura's mirror image and planted light kisses along his neck and cheekbones. Closing his eyes, Kaiba murmured, "Did you think I would want you for more than what I could use you for?"

The cruelty behind the words belied their apparent vocal kindness, and they cut into Bakura like a razor blade across his wrists. Another memory welled up and was swallowed and repressed.

"No, I..." Bakura tried to answer, but then, his voice failed him again. Truthfully, he didn't know what he wanted from Kaiba. Kaiba's low laughter resonated all around him and within his bones.

"Bakura, you know that I would happily tear you apart from the inside; if you but give me leave."

At that harsh statement, the features of what had become a blue-eyed demon to Bakura began to lengthen and melt into a structure as familiar as his own face. Sharp cheekbones jutted from beneath shadowed brown eyes that were accented with long, bone-white lashes. A third vision of Bakura appeared, but this one wore the expression of absolute confidence and cruelty. It was the version of him that he always imaged had appeared when the Millennium Ring become active. It was a vision from his nightmares.

Bakura slid down the hard marble behind him as he closed his eyes, trying to blot out the vision front of him. He could hear the jingle of the ancient gold as this thing assaulted the other version of him.

Closing his eyes as he slid down the column, Bakura tried to blot out the vision of his nightmares. He could hear the jingle of the ancient gold as this creature continued the assault upon his twin. Laughter, cruel and pitched, and the tone so like his own but not, resonated throughout the room. He covered his ears with his hands as he silently begged for it to go away.

However, memories of when he was not himself but under this terrible being's control began to rise up and overwhelm his senses, ripping away at his fragile reality. Bakura began to run away inside himself. He sought out the darkness of blissful ignorance to hide from what had be born of the ancient gift from his father and his own insecurities and dealings with the occult. It was only in that warm darkness where he could find peace. It was only there that he could cease to exist.

"Yes, did you think that I could save you as well, Ryou?" A new voice that was as insidious as it was sibilant wrapped itself around his own thoughts.

Memories of high-school and junior high-school flashed and showed a shy and quiet young man who kept to himself and played role-playing games and video games. Yet, overlaid upon those were the memories of the being who had tried to destroy ever person he had let near. He could remember the dolls. So many, many dolls that had lined the shelves of his bedrooms as he moved from school to school, home to home. His fingers were flicking and causing them to dance, and he could see the shimmering strings connecting him to them. Then, the memory of when he had received the Ring from his father appeared. Wait, his mind screamed, that was before the dolls. He could suddenly smell blood and burnt rubber. A sound like metal being crumpled filled his ears.

"You were My puppet first, and you will always remain My puppet."

That voice born from his nightmares continued to speak. Bakura whimpered as new images, those filled with the blank faces of comatose children superimposed themselves over his memories of the car accident. He could see the river of blood flowing from Amane's broken body across the asphalt.

"Nothing changed just because you think I'm gone. I'm still out there, in here."

No, Atemu defeated this dark spirit. He clung to that shining memory. That was right. When Zorc was destroyed in the ancient Pharaoh's memory world, he was simultaneously destroyed in this world. He had been later told that the dark spirit of the Ring had been an extension of Zorc and subsequently his past incarnation. Bakura swallowed his fear, opened his eyes, and forced himself to stand up.

"You are wrong. The Pharaoh Atemu destroyed you. They told me so. I know it must be the truth!"

Laughter again. But then something else began to happen. Bakura knew his jaw had become slack as he watched the pale skin of the dark version of himself turn into a thick, inky-colored hide. Long nails erupted from this creature's hands and cut into his ravaged clone's flesh. Dull, iron horns ripped their way out of his skull as his face lengthened into a snout. A row of sharp, terribly white teeth grinned at him. Small, red eyes with slits for pupils then appeared and focused on him. The nightmare behind his nightmares was staring at him.

As the demon-god spoke, the entire bathing room shook from floor to ceiling, "Can I, the Great Dark God Zorc Necrophades, be destroyed by mere happenstance and luck?"

Bakura fell to his knees, his face suddenly on level to Zorc Necrophades'. Trails of blood were running into the clear water from where his doppelganger and this demon were joined together. With each movement, more gore gushed into the formally pristine pool. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to turn himself away from the scene, but he was frozen to the spot. Bakura's heart painfully constricted in fear.

"No one can save you," his doppelganger spoke through clenched teeth. "This is where you belong and this is what you are. You know I speak the truth because I am you. We are nothing but playthings for those that are greater than ourselves."

Tears spilled from his eyes. Could this be true? Was this real? Was what his mirror image saying true? Did he want to be hurt?

"Big Brother!" A young girl's voice cut through the haze and darkness in the room.

Feeling childlike hands on his shoulders, he let her turn him toward her. It was Amane with her sweet brown eyes and golden hair. She was his angel in this darkness. Bakura found himself free, and he clung to her like he was about to drown. This was the only light in the now pitch darkness of this place.

"You have to get away from them, Big Brother. Come with me, please!" She was tugging at him, and Bakura stood up. He turned his back to the demons in the pool.

Zorc's voice was guttural as he laughed at the little girl and frail man. "What is a little girl going to do against Me and the truth? Are you planning to feed him happy lies as I devour his soul?"

"You are the ones who are lying to my brother."

His clone's voice, exactly like his own, mingled with Zorc's, "We could easily crush you, Amane. You are but a wisp."

An expression unfamiliar to him and almost adult-like appeared on her face as she called out over his shoulder. "You cannot and you know why." Her face returned to it's previous cherubic visage, and she insisted once again, "You have to come with me now, Big Brother."

"You will be back with me soon, Ryou. My brother, my lover, my child, my parent. I'm you and you are me. Together we are the Alpha and Omega, a beginning with no ending. This you cannot run from forever." It was his own voice now, clear and without corruption from the other voices.

Bakura froze for a moment, but Amane continued to pull at him. Her eyes silently begged that he listen to her and feeling like a rubber band had snapped, he finally was able to do so. She dragged him out of the room and back into the hallway. No longer was it brightly lit. Instead, a tunnel of Stygian darkness led in either direction. Only the pale glow of Amane's skin and the warmth of her hand in his gave him any indication that she was still there with him.

"You can't look back, Big Brother. You have to run and not look back. Please listen to me, please trust me." She looked so serious, like a little woman trapped in a tiny child's body.

Amane surged forward, taking him with her through the unending corridor. Behind him, he could hear the splash of something slithering out of water and then heavy footfalls following them at a rapidly increasing pace. She kept her face turned toward him, never glancing forward, as she continued to force him to run.

"Please, Big Brother, don't look back," she begged.

Bakura could feel hot breath on the back of his neck and the faint sensation of hands missing him as they tried to swipe at him. He longed to look behind himself to make sure they were not going to get him. Whenever he felt his head starting to turn, he would see Amane shake her head and that would jar him back to watching her as she led him through the darkness that had no end. It was like they were underground and no longer in the Kaiba mansion.

In hindsight, he would realize it was when his thoughts touched on Kaiba that caused what happened next to manifest, but it was too late to change what happened. It was Kaiba's voice that had made him fail his sister at that moment. When it spoke, it had wrapped itself around his heart and pierced him like a thousand thorns.

"Do you really want to run from me, Ryou?"

Bakura immediately halted and turned around.

An answer was on his lips, and it was an answer that he could not remember. At the moment when he turned to gaze at Kaiba, he then saw a perverted conflagration of melted flesh and bones that was the combination of the brunette, himself and Zorc Necrophades fused as one multi-limbed demon. Blood boiled from between mismatched joints and yellowy puss seeped from myriad self-inflected wounds. Blue fire back-lit the eyes of Kaiba's distorted face as its fang-filled, black-lipped mouth smiled back at him. The scream was out of his throat before Bakura could decide if he was going to scream or not.

Amane's voice cut through the scene and him like a knife. "I told you not to look back."

Whipping around, Bakura tried to face his little sister. She was not as she was moments ago. Now, blood poured from cuts and tears in her flesh. She was bruised and swollen and her blond hair was matted with gore infused mud. A fat, green worm crawled out of her nose and into her left ear as her eyes melted out of her sockets.

Skeletal fingers with hanging tendrils of rotted flesh grabbed at him. He could feel the sharp hooks of the bones digging into his skin and ripping away at him. Unable to deal with the horrors before and behind him, Bakura felt himself collapse. He began to babble incoherently as he begged for help, supplication, or to die quickly.

"Sir, sir, wake up!"

A hand was shaking him. It was no longer Amane's skeletal hand touching him. This was a living woman's hand. He gripped it with lightning quick reflexes and clung to her small anchor that was bringing him back to reality. She gasped and tried to pull away.

He wanted to hysterically laugh. A nightmare. It was just another nightmare. Bakura opened his eyes and let the woman go. Lamely, he tugged at his bathing room to make sure he was covered. She jumped away from him at the same time.

"I'm... sorry." His voice was thick, and his dry tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. When he tried to swallow, it was painful.

Nervously, she twisted a loose strand of hair from her bun between fingers. The woman was dressed in the standard uniform of the mansion's maids. He remembered seeing them skittering to and fro as they polished and dusted all parts of the great house. This one was the youngest he had seen. She appeared to be his age. The others were usually in their mid-forties or older.

"There is nothing for you to be sorry for, sir. Minato found you asleep on the floor near the bathing room. If that is where you want to sleep, it is not for Minato to judge." Her voice was high-pitched, and he winched a little as it grated on his eardrums. He also did not like the way she referred to herself in the third-person, but who was he to say anything. He was the one found on the hallway floor.

Standing up, he tried to stay steady but nearly fell over. She quickly caught him and her eyes came on level to some of his bruises when his robe parted. For her part, Minato gasped at the blue and black marred skin.

"Sir, did something bad happen to you last night?" He could hear the fear in her voice.

"No, it was nothing. I … just bruise easily." He frowned.

"I think the Masters should know. You are their friend, yes? The one called Master Bakura." Her words were a high-speed torrent he had trouble keeping up with. "They would be upset if a staff member might have harmed you, even in accident."

Clearly, she thought she had done something to him or that he might blame her for it. Other than to cause his headache to proportionality increase, she was not the source of his greater internal pain.

Shaking his head at her request, he asked her, "Are the Masters awake?"

"Master Mokuba has already had breakfast and left for the day. Master Kaiba remains in his room and is not to be disturbed by us staff." He noticed that she did not use his given name as she had easily used Mokuba's. She then added, "We had thought you were still abed as well when you did not answer your door for breakfast."

Bakura nodded, and replied, "I think I should go to my room."

Trying to walk on his own, he moved away from her but instead he collapsed. His body and soul were too weak from the encounter with Kaiba earlier and the subsequent nightmare. Bakura clung to the thought that it had to have been a nightmare. Even as Minato was trying to catch him from hurting himself, he dared a glance at the pristine bathing room. No blood marred the pure white surfaces. There were no mutating demons or visions of himself and Kaiba. His sister had not really been there. Hands were no longer trying to rip his living flesh from his bones.

"Master Bakura, please let Minato help you to your room. You are not well!"

Not able to respond anymore, he leaned on her and let her lead him away from where his nightmare had been staged. In a few hours, he would have enough to face in reality and at this moment, his nightmares would have to take a step back from his forethought. Without noticing it, his bare foot crushed a small daisy that was on the floor.


	14. Where It Begins

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

**

* * *

**

When Minato deposited Bakura outside his room, he slunk in, locked the door, and collapsed upon the bed. He felt as if he had not slept for days. Exhaustion controlled his every action. His very soul was suffering from the combined events of the last few days. There had to be something infinitely wrong with him. It was like he was broken.

Glancing to the side of the bed, he saw that it was nearly ten in the morning. It was no wonder the staff had attempted to rouse him earlier like Minato said. He tried to remember if he had classes today or not. A small thought spoke up and told him that did it really matter if he did. Turning to his side, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed the university. He tried not to wince at the shrill ringing sound near his ear.

A woman answered and he identified himself. Finally, he explained he would not be in school because he was ill. Bakura presumed they wrote it down in his file after he disconnected the line. Rolling onto his back, he scrolled through the list of phone numbers and stopped at the one marked 'Home.'

Bakura really needed someone right now. He was scared. He was very scared. This was no ordinary nightmare. It was like the nightmares were becoming reality. Knowing he had told himself he was not going to think about it, he still did. It had crawled its way back to the front of his thoughts and worked on consuming him once more. Maybe if he told his father what was going on and actually opened up to him he could be healed. Before his fragile courage fled him, he pressed the talk button on the phone.

It rang once, then twice. A click as the line on the other side was picked up.

"Hello?" His father's voice!

Suddenly, Bakura felt like there were butterflies in his stomach as he cradled the phone tightly against him. "F-Father, it's me, Ryou."

A long pause. He could hear his father clearing his throat.

"I do not have a son. He died."

Trembling, tears threatening him for the unknown time again in the last day, he stammered a response. "You do. I'm your son. I'm not dead! You... you gave me the ring you found in Egypt, remember?"

Anger from the man on the phone. "Is this some kind of joke? You should be ashamed."

"I-I... I need you, Father. Please, help me," Bakura begged. "There is so much I want to tell you. I'm ready now. I'm scared. Please, Father, don't do this to me!"

"I am hanging up now. Good day."

Click. Silence. His phone darkened. Bakura was frozen in the same position as if he were still on the phone. After a long moment, his arm dropped. He stared up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. Catatonia began to set in as he murmured over and over to himself.

"I need... I need help."

There was no answers from the richly appointed room, or the drapes around his bed, or the phone that was loosely held in his hand. Soon, they were all forgotten as darkness overtook his internal vision. Running away as far and fast as he could from the world, Bakura's mind found the darkest part to curl up in. Outwardly, he appeared awake but his limbs had become rigid. Except for the barest movement of his chest, the only other sign of life was his whispering voice. Then, that too, became silent.

When his phone rang again, he ignored it. When the air-conditioning turned on and blasted him with cool air, he did not respond. When someone knocked at his locked door, he did not hear. He had become that which he feared and felt that he deserved at the same time.

Bakura was, for all intents, a living doll.

On the other side of his door, Minato stood there with a breakfast tray in hand. She knocked again, but there was no answer from within. She sighed. The master with the white hair was very strange, and a little scary, but he had looked so lost when she helped him to his room that she thought she might bring him his missed breakfast. Tilting her arm up while keeping the tray in her hands, she looked at her watch.

"Maybe Master Bakura will be hungry for lunch."

Hours later, Minato returned again with another tray. This time, it was piled rice, miso, fish, and foods that she thought might help him feel better. She felt a little tense because Master Kaiba had raged at the staff in the dining room an hour ago. Shrinking back from the cold-voiced man, she had kept herself as small as she could to catching his wrath. Minato's mother and grandmother both worked at the mansion most of their lives, but they were now in positions that did little to interact or be seen. They were thankful to no longer be around the family. Mother always said that there was never a man except Master Kaiba who could scream at you with a whisper.

She rapped at the door and waited. Again, there was no response. She knew that Master Bakura was in there. He had never left the mansion according to Kioshi, and Kioshi knew everything that had to do with the house and family. Adjusting the tray to balance better in the nook of her arm, Minato looked nervously down the hall toward Master Kaiba's room. She hoped that she wouldn't disturb him with her knocking.

Trying again, she knocked harder on the door and winced as the sound echoed down the hall. Her heartbeat seemed overly loud to her, and a sense of unease was settling into her stomach. Something was not right. She tried the handle, but it was locked.

"Master Bakura?" She called out as loud as she dared. "It's Minato and Minato brought you lunch. Are you hungry?"

Silence.

"Okay. You must still be tired, Master Bakura," Minato spoke through the door. "Minato will bring you dinner before she leaves tonight."

This time, when she returned, her mother accompanied her. They both knocked at the door and received no response. Minato was feeling scared for the young man.

"Mother, what do you suppose is wrong? No one has seen him leave, and yet, he has not left the room for anything." Minato's eyes were wide.

Patting her daughter's shoulder, the shorter woman smiled and shrugged. "I'm sure there is nothing to worry about. He is probably still resting. You said he was very sick this morning."

Looking away from her mother, afraid she would see the lie when she did not mention his bruises, "Yes, he was was sick and I brought him back here."

"It's time to go, Father will be here soon to take us home." Minato's mother turned and left her standing at Bakura's door. She bit her lip as she looked nervously at Master Kaiba's and then Master Mokuba's. She wondered if she should say something, but Mother acted like this was nothing to bother.

"Minato?"

"Coming!" She ran down the hall to catch up with her mother.

The next morning, after checking with the changeover staff and finding out that no one had seen Bakura, Minato returned with another breakfast tray. She knocked on the door for several minutes. Masters Kaiba and Mokuba had already left earlier that day. It had been a strange morning with them as well.

"Master Bakura! You're scaring Minato! Please answer!" She called out, her voice trembling.

The silence continued.

Minato sat down on the floor in front of the door and began to pick away at the breakfast she had gathered for the white-haired master. She was a nervous eater, and the urge to nibble had overwhelmed her finally. Minato had decided she was going to wait as long as she could before she was expected to help in the other parts of the house. It was the combination of knowing that Master Bakura had not left his room or received food and the way Master Kaiba and Master Mokuba had spoken to each other this morning that had set her further on edge.

"Brother, have you seen Bakura lately?" Minato had been glad to hear Mokuba bring up the missing master.

A snap of one of the many international papers answered the high-schooler first. "No."

Mokuba sighed as he poked at his food with his chopstick. "Do you know if he is OK?"

Kaiba slammed the paper down on the table, causing the tea and coffee service to bounce with the force.

"What do I look like, Mokuba? His keeper?"

"Damn it, Seto. Why do you have to be such a jerk? I was just asking you a simple question." Mokuba was annoyed. He hadn't seen or heard from Bakura in two days. It seemed strange since he lived with them that he kept somehow missing the other man.

Kaiba's eyes flashed dangerously. "Well, if you weren't busy convincing me to take in every damn stray you came across... Maybe, I wouldn't be such a jerk. As I said, I don't know where he is. Just because I helped him once doesn't mean I will continue to take care of him."

Minato could sense an undercurrent of tension coming off of Master Kaiba in waves. She wondered if she should speak up and tell them what she saw the day before. It was fast becoming apparent that she was the last person to see Master Bakura. This made her even more scared. If something bad had happened to him, she could be blamed for it. She would have to talk to Mother again after she tried to serve Master Bakura breakfast.

She winced when she heard Master Mokuba slam his chair against the table as he left. Minato had witnessed enough of the family over the years since Mother had brought her to the mansion to know that he was normally much more kindhearted than his older brother. Household gossip held that Master Kaiba used to be just as kind, if a bit sad, but now he could be described as cruel at best, sadistic at worst. At least, that was how he treated the staff if he noticed them except for his brother and Kioshi. Only, Mokuba had retained that kind demeanor, and she felt bad for him for being upset.

Bringing herself back to the present, she banged the back of her head against the door.

"Master Bakura! You are causing worry and tension. Please, please, come out, Sir!"

Nibbling on a piece of salmon, she felt like she was some thief that was harboring a dangerous secret. Minato decided that she would say something that night if she had not witnessed Master Bakura emerging from the room by then. Nimbly, she picked up the tray and left.

At lunch time she came back, but there remained no responses to her attempts. Minato wanted to cry. Mother had told her not to dare say something to the Masters and that it was not any of their business to get involved in their disputes. She had wailed against the directive, but ultimately, in the end accepted it. However, she was still determined to try to sneak him a plate. Mother had also wanted her to stop coming and 'bothering' the Masters.

Dinner time came and went, and waiting outside, Minato felt strange as she looked up at the Master Bakura's window when they left for the evening. It was dark in that room and the stormy clouds reflected back to themselves off the glass panes.

Another day, and another passed. Minato tried to count the days since she last knew when she saw Master Bakura. Master Mokuba was fraught with worry and Master Kaiba remained as himself, untouched by the missing man. She couldn't understand why no one had tried to unlock the door, but then she thought that only Master Kaiba and Kioshi had the skeleton keys. There were parts of the mansion she knew that no one was allowed to enter. Had Master Bakura's room become one of those? Could he be dead? Killed by Master Kaiba?

She fell to her hands and knees and sniffed the crack where the door and floor met. No strange rotting smells touched her senses. Minato's fingers probed under the door, like a kitten, but she could only feel cool air touching their tips. A couple of fat tears fell from her eyes. Something was very, very wrong. Twisting around, she continued her vigilance. Her mother would surely be mad at her for shirking her duties, but she was not going to leave this spot until she knew that he was alive and well. Minato did not have long to wait for her situation to drastically change.

"What are you doing here, girl?" Annoyed, sharp, and commanding. Minato looked up to face the master she feared most.

Kaiba was standing over the maid who was sitting in front of Bakura's door. A silver tray with a luncheon set was next to her. She had large, almond-shaped black eyes that were set in a face that reminded him of a heart. At that moment, she was looking up at him in fear. Frowning to himself, he thought that as much as he preferred he was feared by the staff this was annoyingly preventing him from getting his question answered.

He nudged her with his foot. "Answer me now if you value your job."

"Mi-mi-mi-mi..."

Her age was indeterminate to him. Kaiba could tell she was young, but he had no idea her name or who she was. He knelt down in front of her, his face on level with hers, and set his silver briefcase to the side.

"Is that better for you? Are you going to talk now?" Kaiba figured if she didn't talk soon, he'd have to slap her to get her to make sense.

He supposed the reason he was really annoyed was because she was outside Bakura's room. In a way, she was forcing him to think about what he had happened between them several days ago. Something like a conscience had been gnawing away at him since. Mokuba's insistence that something was wrong was correct, and Kaiba did not want his brother to find out what had happened between him and Bakura.

"!Minatoisscared!Hemightbedead!" Minato's voice suddenly burst forth, and she spoke so fast that Kaiba could barely understand her, but one part rang inside his head like a thousand funeral bells.

Bakura had not left this room. Maybe it had been insane speculation or just what he wanted to think, but Kaiba had thought that perhaps Bakura had been avoiding everyone because of their encounter. It was certainly understandable. His subconscious choose that moment to remind him that he had been incredibly cruel to him for something that he had initiated. In hindsight, the same subconscious was telling him that he overreacted when he had been 'rejected' by Bakura.

Five days. Maybe dead.

Kaiba yanked the girl to her feet and pushed her aside as he dug his keys out of his pocket. He expertly flipped through them to one that was set with a blue amethyst. It was this one that he slammed into the door's lock and turned. Everything had become silent to his ears except the audible click of the tumblers giving him entry to the room. He pushed the newly unlocked door open with so much force that it bounced against the wall beside it.

His eyes scanned the room. It was neatly ordered. Bakura's items were still here. Then, he looked at the bed. Bakura's body was laying in repose. It was like he was already prepared for his own funeral. The robe he had been wearing when he left the bath was wrapped around him. Kaiba felt his chest constrict.

Behind him, Minato was freaking out. "No-no-no-no-no..."

She had never seen a dead body like this. Minato remembered when Grandfather had died, and Grandmother watched over him as the priest wet his lips with water. It was dignified and expected. In addition, Grandfather had been sick a very long time. He was not in his prime. Nor was she the last person he had seen. Panic threatened to bubble out of her.

Realizing he was not alone, Kaiba turned around and shouted at the maid, "You stupid girl! Get out of here now!"

Her eyes widened like little saucers in shock. Not willing to give her time to respond, Kaiba pushed her out of the room and into the hallway. He then slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside. Alone, he turned to face Bakura's body again.

It was no longer the gnawing, quite subconscious self that was accusing him of mistreating Bakura; now, it was his fully conscious, waking self. Like an accusing finger, Kaiba remembered what he did to Bakura when he last saw him in that robe. He had dropped him like so much trash and left him. Fear that he had killed Bakura by his actions settled themselves inside of his soul.

This would be his fault, he thought to himself as he forced himself to approach the bed. It was he that had initiated the touches, the kisses, and the near-ravishment of the other man. Kaiba still didn't fully understand why he had done all those things to Bakura, but the fact remained that he had. It was also his own fault for how he reacted and mistreated him. Ever time he had been around him, Bakura had been mostly withdrawn and shy; how could he have expected him to easily respond to him in such a situation. Truth be told, over the years he probably would have forgotten him completely if what they called Bakura's 'dark' self had not kidnapped Mokuba. Kaiba knew, with absolute certainty, that he would never come near to forgetting Bakura now.

Within minutes he was standing over Bakura. As he looked down from above, he could see how the hands had curled slightly at his sides. A forgotten phone was near one hand, and Kaiba wondered who he might have reached out to for help. Most of the robe covered his arms and legs, but Bakura's torso was bare. It was just a shade darker than the snowy white terrycloth except where bruises and lovebites were fading into yellowy stain. Kaiba winced as he realized that he was the cause of those marks. Forcing himself to look into Bakura's brown eyes, Kaiba settled his view on his face. The eyes were open, staring, and unseeing, and framed by long white lashes. His jaw was slightly slack, and the lips had become extremely chapped. Suddenly, something caught his peripheral vision. Kaiba stood very still.

There it was again. It was minute movements. It looked like Bakura's chest was moving. He was breathing! Kaiba stepped back, his hands flung back with his movement as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Bakura had to be alive. He looked dead but he was breathing. Yes, his chest rose just ever so slightly again . And there, it fell. Without thinking or reconsidering, Kaiba scooped Bakura up into his arms and carried him into the room's private bathroom.

In the simple room, a shower stall occupied one side and personal needs were address further behind a currently closed door. It was to the shower that he walked into. He adjusted the unconscious Bakura in his arms, keeping him cradled close to him, and freed a hand long enough to twist both the hot and cold knobs to full blast. Enough sense entered his mind to give the water a moment to warm, but when it was just above cold, Kaiba plunged in with Bakura.

Kaiba twisted his body to sit so that he could better hold him against him, and his arm was supporting Bakura as his other hand slapped his face lightly.

"Bakura, wake up. You have to wake up."

Water was threatening to drip into Bakura's eyes, nose, and mouth, so Kaiba repositioned him once more to prevent the water from spraying on Bakura's face. Those dark brown eyes continued to stare upward with no response.

"Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Bakura. Forgive me. I was a jerk. I was foolish." Kaiba felt like he was on the edge of sanity again. If Bakura didn't wake up, this would be all his fault. He was the reason that Bakura was like this, he just knew it.

Slamming his head against the tiled wall behind him, Kaiba let the water splash him in the face. The whole time he had thought Bakura was avoiding him. He should have checked on him, but he didn't want to face him, because to face Bakura was to face his own weaknesses. He had been weak when Bakura had found him, petulant and egotistical when he assumed he was being rejected, and quite simply an asshole because he wanted to lash out and punish Bakura for witnessing him in such a position in both situations.

As it stood, he had thought the best thing for them both would be if Bakura would simply disappear, but he really did not want him to vanish like this. He banged his head on the wall again. His fault. Always his fault. Did he have to always be such a failure? He hurt everything around him, but sometimes he just didn't have a choice. Pushing Bakura away would have been for the best, but he was realized the longer he held the unresponsive man in his arms that he was not going to be able to nor ignore what was happening any more.

Kaiba pulled Bakura upward so that their faces were level. He looked like a doll with soaking wet white hair and a lolling head. Brushing away a few of the strands, Kaiba looked him into the eyes and stated, "Bakura, I am sorry. Please, wake up. You have to wake up because I... I... I think I need you."

It was the highest admission Kaiba had ever made to another human being. Saying it had made him hurt inside, but he had pushed those feelings away and remained focus on Bakura. Kaiba then brushed his lips across Bakura's. He could feel the barely perceptible warm breath on his mouth. Trying to be careful and not steal his breath, Kaiba moved away to kiss his cheeks and temples, and then forehead. Pulling back once more, he looked down at the beautiful man.

Then, in wonder, Kaiba watched as life seemed to return to Bakura. It was a shift in the eyes where it happened first, and then they slowly blinked. A surprised expression took hold, but it was quickly replaced by a painful one that twisted Kaiba's soul. With a hoarse cry, Bakura's grabbed Kaiba's lapels and buried his face into the wet silk. Harsh sobs echoed in the stall as Bakura wept.

Kaiba was smiling, but his smile was not for whatever hurt that Bakura was experiencing. It was because Bakura was still alive. He wrapped his arms tighter around the thin man and rocked him back and forth as the water cascade from his head unto them both. Kaiba's fingers were tangled in the long white hair as he pressed his cheek to the top of Bakura's head. Soon, the hands clinging to him let go long enough to wrap themselves around his neck. Kaiba could feel the trembling stop.

Gently pushing Bakura, Kaiba was able to finally see his face. Redness marred the perfect whites of Bakura's eyes, but to Kaiba it meant life and living. He cupped the trembling chin and rubbed his thumb along the ridge of Bakura's jawbone.

"You're still alive," Kaiba said right before he swooped to capture Bakura's lips in a kiss.

He could feel the other man attempt to weakly push him away, but he was not going to let go of him this time. He was his. Not wanting to suffocate him, Kaiba moved to kissing Bakura's cheek and down to his neck and collarbone.

"Kaiba, what are you doing?" A voice long unused scraped out of Bakura's throat.

Giving a little shrug, Kaiba responded, "I don't know."

Bakura tilted his head upward, looking at the white ceiling and through the water jetting over his head. He was so confused and depressed. His father had rejected him. He remembered this. Hot tears were washed away by the shower's mist. At least, for the moment, Kaiba's kisses felt good but he couldn't figure out why they were in the shower and why after what happened last night was Kaiba doing this.

Kaiba moved back to Bakura's lips and kissed them again. His blue eyes were bright when he finally said, "You're really alive."

Confused, Bakura's raised his right eyebrow. He was beginning to feel a little testy. "What do you mean, I'm alive? Of course, I am. What I don't understand is how we are here and why..."

He got a laugh for his response, and it was not the characteristic sarcastic one that he was used to hearing. "Bakura, you have been in your room for five days. No one has seen or heard from you that entire time. I thought you were dead when I saw you, but you're not."

Looking down at Kaiba's dark blue suit that he was wearing, Bakura could see where his hands had crumbled the wet material and stretched it. He frowned.

"I ruined your suit."

Kaiba looked down. "Yes, you did."

Biting his lip, Bakura looked back up. "I'm really hungry."

Laughing, Kaiba took his face with both hands and kissed him hard on the lips.


	15. Mercury in Retrograde

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

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Bakura felt strange. The entire world had turned upon itself and had become surreal. He felt as if he were in a plane and watching it fly on autopilot, floating above the world only because a machine was telling him to. It was like everyday was becoming a constant source of change for him and that he was trapped in some sort of story, pulled like a puppet. Then, there was Kaiba.

After he had awakened in Kaiba's arms with the water spraying overhead, he had cried against his chest. Kaiba, at that moment, had become his only tether to reality. When the initial shock wore off and the initial memories that had caused him to cry had faded away, he allowed him to draw him out of the cubicle. Then, Bakura had stood there naked while he allowed Kaiba to dry him. And besides, there was no choice in the matter. It was unnerving to watch Kaiba being subservient to another, especially to him. Kaiba was being so nice to him after last night – no, five days ago – when he had been terribly cruel.

"Kaiba?" Bakura tried to say when a towel was thrown over his head. Instead, it came out slightly mumbled. Fingers were running the towel through his pale hair, drying it.

"Yes..."

Drops from Kaiba's wet clothing occasionally splashed on Bakura due to his movements. Bakura couldn't understand why he hadn't left to put on dry clothing. However, that thought was quickly forgotten as he was busy trying to keep some level of decorum around the other man by concealing parts of his body from Kaiba's ministrations as best as he could. He was nervous he might have a repeat of that night or begin to feel even more like the child he was being treated as.

Before he try to stop him, Kaiba stood back and gave him that smile again. It was kind, but it seemed to have an edge to it. Like a forced happiness, or maybe a mad one. Bakura shook his head. It was hard to tell if this was the real Kaiba or not. His ultimate fear was that this was a continuation of his nightmares. It certainly had enough aspects to turn into one.

Kaiba was feeling good. He had pulled Bakura out of the shower shortly after he started speaking. He could atone now. Then, the positions would no longer be mismatched. In a way, as much as he nearly sent the frail man to his death, he was the one to pull him back from it. It was a heady and powerful position to have over someone. And, at this moment, he was the one in control and owned the situation.

As he thought about it, Kaiba realized that in the shower he had made the conscious decision to keep Bakura. Yes, he had been foolishly weak when trying to wake the skinny man up, but that was because he had been afraid that he was going to die and it would have been somehow his fault for this. Now that he was calmer and able to rationalize his choices. He would keep Bakura, yes, because he needed to learn and subsequently drive out whatever desire he had for this man. It was embarrassing for him to feel this strange attachment to anyone. It could be an experiment. He laughed off his emotionalism from earlier. However, his actions continued to belay against the wishes of his conscious decisions.

"Come, come," Kaiba said as he draped a fresh robe around Bakura. "Let's get you back into bed."

"But I-" Bakura was cut off with a sharp, blue glance.

Bakura silenced himself and let himself be led back into the bed where he was now laying on far too many pillows. He looked down at his hands where they rested on top of the gray comforter that Kaiba had tucked around him. As for the brunette, he was now fussing with the draping curtains of the canopy and pulling them back to the banisters. Bakura idly wondered when Kaiba would deal with the wet clothes that still clung to his body.

"Ah! You said you were hungry. I'll have a meal sent up. That maid should still be outside your door." That small strange, accommodating smile of Kaiba's unnerved him once again but he was too hungry to protest as he nodded to the suggestion, or rather the statement.

Striding back to the door, Kaiba unlocked and flung it open. His movements were once again the type that Bakura could understand. The hint of the man he know. This was further cemented by the harsh, commanding tones of his normal voice. "Girl, bring miso and rice up, right now."

Waiting and watching from her position by the wall on the other side of the door was Minato. Unsure of what she should do after Master Kaiba had locked her out of the room, she had decided to maintain a vigil. She had hoped her mother or grandmother might have come looking for her, but they never came and so she remained. Now, hearing her master's voice demanding her, she jumped to attention. However, instead of obeying him immediately as she normally would have, she tilted her body trying to see around him. Was the white-haired Master Bakura still dead? Was he a ghost? She tried to figure out what had happened behind the door.

"Are you an idiot? I said now!" Kaiba's voice roared and cut through any curiosity she had. She instead squeaked in fright and ran down the hallway as fast as she could.

Minato was determined to get to the kitchens and back with his request as fast as she could. Master Kaiba scared her something terrible and she could imagine him killing the poor frail Master Bakura. She also wanted to try to get another peek into the room beyond and find out if Master Bakura was really, really dead. Why miso and rice was needed, she didn't understand, but there were many things she didn't understand that people did. Regardless, she thought, maybe people became hungry when killing. Without paying attention to where she was going, she had been looking at her feet as she ran, Minato turned the corner out of the hallway and ran head-on into another person who had been heading toward where she was leaving.

"Woah!" A male voice shouted as together they collided and tumbled onto the ground in a sprawl of limbs.

As she tried to assess her surroundings from the ground, Minato looked across her twisted legs and saw her other master, Master Mokuba, in a likewise position. This was turning out to be the worst day of her entire life. She promptly burst into tears.

Mokuba blinked in shock. His mind tried to formulate why the girl was crying but nothing offered a solution. He shrugged. Looking at her, he guessed she was one of the many maids that worked in the mansion. Standing up, he offered his hand to her. Instead of taking it, she spun herself enough so that she could plant her face into the ground at his feet.

"Minato is very, very sorry for knocking you down, Master Mokuba. Please forgive her!"

"What?" Mokuba was slightly confused by this show of humility for the accident. He didn't consider it such a huge deal for her to be so humble. For Mokuba, it was hard to see it from her point of view. To him, it was simply an event that had happened. He hadn't been paying attention either.

Mokuba's mind had been on the fact he was going to march into his brother's rooms and demand an explanation why they had not started a search for the missing Bakura. Today, Mokuba had spoken with Tamika to get the address to his school. There, and after skipping all his morning class, Mokuba had pulled his family's prestige upon the university staff to find out that Bakura had called five days ago and stated he was ill. He had felt guilty by using such a blunt means to obtain that information, but at this point, he was becoming consumed with worry for the pale, quiet man that was in their home because of his insistence.

"It's OK," Mokuba said as he got her to sit up. "You can stop crying. I'm not mad. I forgive you."

Hiccuping, Minato roughly rubbed at her face to wipe the tears away.

Feeling out of sorts by dealing with a weeping woman, Mokuba tried to redirect her to the source of his direction. "Have you seen my brother? I need to speak with him."

He thought it was a simple question. Nothing that would induce what happened next. When he watched a pained expression come over Minato's face and a fresh, and louder, wave of sobs shake her body, Mokuba sat there speechless. He thought to himself that her response was like he had kicked her puppy or something. This was entirely too strange. Maybe, she was insane, he considered.

"Why are you crying, now?" His voice was slowed and confused.

"Minato is scared!" She cried out. Right now, Minato was wishing that Mother or Grandmother would find her. They would know what to do. They never told her how to deal with the Masters in this sort of situation. Follow their commands, do as told, but never, ever, did the tell her how to deal with things that she thought were only on the television shows that Mother would watch. She turned her head to look back toward the way she came, thinking about Masters Kaiba and Bakura.

Seeing the direction she was looking as tears continued to fall down her cheeks, he frowned. She was obviously shaken by something his brother did. He was always needlessly cruel to members of the staff when he decided to be a jerk or just felt like it. Mokuba could not understand what drove his brother to act that way toward others, especially those in a lower position.

"What are you scared of?" He kept his voice light, not wanting to cause her to keep crying.

Looking down at her hands, she shrugged. Even though Master Mokuba was known for being kind to the staff and even going out of his way at times to help people, she was scared of what he would do if she told him what her fear was. She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. In her limited worldview, people came in two types. They were either good or bad. As such, her attitudes were just as simplistic. Her family's desire to protect her had put her in a position that left her entirely unable to cope with subtlety or complexity. This left her with a feeling of dread and too many questions about the man that she was sure was dead. She swallowed. Master Mokuba was good. So, that would mean he was safe and she could tell him.

"Master Mokuba, Master Kaiba killed Master Bakura." She said it quietly, like a child admitting to stealing a cookie or some other treat. She followed her admission with a hiccup.

He tried to blink as his mouth went slack. Mokuba's mind tried to wrap around those innocently-shaped words. He shook his head. This was not what he was expecting to hear. Mokuba moved from his kneeling position to sit next to the maid.

Minato was smiling now. A heavy load had been lifted from her shoulders when she admitted what she knew to Master Mokuba. He would take care of everything now and since he was good, she would be safe.

Finally, looking at the woman again, Mokuba, incredulous, asked, "Are you sure?"

Waiting for her to answer, he thought to himself if his brother would be capable of killing someone. A mental checklist began to mark such things as berate, push, cruelty, rudeness, competitiveness, ruthless, and so on but murder remained out of reach. Yes, his brother was not someone any would consider a nice person nor would they think of him first when considering charitable people, but Kaiba was not someone that would kill another living being unless circumstance or honor demanded it. Could he be the cause of someone's death, Mokuba considered that a distinct possibility based on stories of what happened to their adopted father after the takeover and how some employees had committed suicide rather than fall short of Kaiba's exceedingly high expectations. Clutching at his half of the pendant he made them, Mokuba thought to himself the maid had to be mistaken.

Flooded with relief that Master Mokuba had not yelled at her, she blurted, "Minato did not see the act, but Minato is sure Master Bakura is dead. Minato saw him still in his bed before Master Kaiba made Minato leave the room."

"Maybe," Mokuba offered, thinking about what he had learned from the school, "Bakura was sick these last five days?"

Minato looked up at the ceiling. "Master Bakura had many, many bruises on his body when Minato found him next to the family bathing chamber. Master Bakura was in pain and weak, and Minato thinks he was sick, too."

Bruises? Mokuba tried to mull over that. He noticed faint blue marks on Bakura's wrists not long before his disappearance. Bakura was also extremely pale, and this could cause even the most benign of marks to appear sinister. Mokuba considered that Bakura was just a step above being an albino with the white on white features that were only broken by the brown of his eyes.

"Could he had slipped in the bathing room? Could that have been the cause of his bruising?"

She shook her head. "Master Bakura had bruises on his chest too. And they wrapped around his arms. Minato saw because..." She blushed. "Minato saw them because Master Bakura was moving in his sleep and his robe slipped."

Digesting the information momentarily, Mokuba thought about the way she spoke. Something did not seem to click well about her in his head. Her vocabulary was polite and humble, but her pronunciation was childish. Even the way she constantly referred to herself in the third-person was a mark of a child. It made him think that perhaps her information was exaggerated, like that of a child, but then when he looked at her, he saw a young woman with overly large eyes. Regardless of this, she was right about Bakura and his sleep, especially if he was having a nightmare. He was thrashing that night when Mokuba saw his brother trying to calm him down. But how did she make the leap that his brother had something to do with Bakura he couldn't fathom.

"Why do you think my brother had anything to do with Bakura?" He asked her, voicing his thoughts. He knew he was picking at his words.

She shrank at Mokuba's suddenly sharp tone, but managed to sputter out her answer. "Because... because of the way Master Kaiba was acting. He was mean and angry. He made Minato go away. Minato saw Master Bakura dead in his bed and Master Kaiba was acting wrong."

He wanted to have her define what wrong was, but decided there wasn't enough time to go into that. Standing, he dragged her up with him. Her statements were not adding up in his mind, at least into any sense he could understand. Plus, his loyalty to his brother would not let him consider that he was involved beyond a superficial level.

"I'm sure you are simply misunderstanding what happened. We will go and ask my brother what has happened and check on Bakura."

Mokuba felt her try to pull back in fright from his proposal, but he half-dragged her along with him by her hand toward the family wing.

"Master Mokuba! Minato has to bring Master Kaiba his miso and rice first! He will be so angry if Minato does not bring what he ordered," she protested as she tried to dig her heels into the ground.

Stopping for a second, surprised at her major concern of the moment, he chuckled at the irony and replied, "Do not worry about my brother's lunch."

Meanwhile, Bakura was watching Kaiba like a rabbit watches a fox to determine if and when it would be devoured. As Kaiba fussed about the room, adjusting this one piece or the other, he couldn't help but realize that nothing was quite perfect for the brunette. Every so often, he would mumble about the level of dust or the state of some furnishing. It was almost obsessive the level of neatness. Yet, if Bakura took a long sigh or coughed, Kaiba was back by his side to ask him if he needed a drink. It baffled him.

Content with his inspection and rectifying some of the glaring mistakes in the room, Kaiba returned to the bed and grasped one of Bakura's pale hands in his own. "I will have the room completely cleaned for you. The state of this room is atrocious."

Bakura looked around. It didn't even appear to be in any sort of disarray. He couldn't comprehend nor did he want to imagine what Kaiba considered clean. Trying to protest, he was shushed with a wave of Kaiba's hand.

"You'll need to moved, of course. I will give you my suite for the interim."

He was given another one of Kaiba's unnerving smiles. It was hard to get used to these smiles. Bakura had never really seen easy smiles on Kaiba's face. It wasn't as if the man didn't smile, but usually there was a reason for it. Bakura wondered if maybe he was preparing to deliver him terrible news or something of the sort. Maybe he was still having a nightmare.

Kaiba patted Bakura's hand like he was a child. "You'll have something to eat when that maid returns and we'll discuss the arrangements then."

No, he could not possibly be awake, Bakura thought to himself. Memory and dream-scape were so completely melded at times when he tried to think of his past, that if something seemed out of place, he generally just assumed he wasn't awake. That could explain the whole five days thing. Maybe. He remembered what happened in the bath room. He remembered how Kaiba had treated him in the hallway. Nothing like this, this strange nice and caring Kaiba with the motive-filled smiles. Bakura remembered the nightmare images of… no, he would not remember that right now. He wasn't ready. When the girl helped him to his room after that, he recalled it as well. Anything from entering the door and waking up in the shower sobbing against Kaiba was fuzzy and he knew he remembered it when he woke up but now it was gone.

When he glanced up to say something, he noticed that the curtains had been thrown back and the afternoon sun was streaming into the room. It cast rays of light against Kaiba's profile and caused the blue of his eyes to sparkle like jewels. It was surreal to see how the light graced the angles of the other man's sharp cheekbones. Silk clung to Kaiba's arms where it had dried itself, and Bakura could still feel dampness where Kaiba's hand rested atop his. Kaiba's brown hair had dried in a disarray of strands that gave his face a younger appearance and inadvertently softened some of the sharp angles of his features. Bakura wondered if this would really be what his age looked like. He always thought Kaiba looked much older than his years.

Continuing his observation, Bakura noticed the shape of Kaiba's throat when he watched him swallow. It was immensely erotic in its sudden and unconscious movement. He tore his eyes away from the flesh and tried to focus on Kaiba's still-wet suit. Instead, he was greeted to the evident angles of Kaiba's body where the material still stuck to his skin where wet or had dried out and remained in place. Looking up at the ceiling to stop staring at the brunette, Bakura released a long sigh and attempted to pull his hand away. Kaiba tightened his hold instead.

"Is something wrong, Bakura?" Kaiba's voice had slightly hardened.

Glancing sidelong at Kaiba with narrowed eyes, Bakura felt the urge to scream so it could try to cut through the confusion of the last known forty-eight hours of his life. Never mind, that he had been in some coma for five days in between. He could feel the upset, hurt, and anger trying to come back to him that had been pushed and put on hold. Feelings that he had been trying to ignore. Inside them, the thin stream of fear coiled throughout.

Bakura finally replied, "What are you doing, Kaiba?"

"I'm taking care of you." He shrugged.

"Why?"

"I've been terribly remiss in my duties as a host."

Bakura wanted to laugh. However, the laugh would not have had an ounce of hilarity behind it. He felt as if he was skirting the edge of sanity once again. Instead, he reached over and pinched the hand over his. Hard. Kaiba hissed as he drew back.

"What was that for?"

Waiting, Bakura observed the angry Kaiba for a moment. No changes to his shape. His body remained the same. He did not morph into some nightmare creature. Instead, he was cradling his hand where Bakura had twisted the skin between his fingertips. His eyes were flashing, anger and something else, and then his composure returned. A small shrug. That smile again. Bakura was only about seventy percent sure he was awake.

"I suppose I deserved that for..." Kaiba's voice trailed away as his face suddenly flushed and he turned away.

Kaiba flipped the emotion that had consumed him suddenly over in his mind to better understand it. Guilt. It was a strange feeling, but not a foreign one to him. It was a matter to be dealt with, and then, it would go away. Maybe he'd buy Bakura something. His thoughts were interrupted by a beep.

They both were moved out of their internal debates and looked at each other. Kaiba knelt down and looked under the bed. On the other side, he could see a cell phone.

"That must be your phone," he said. "I'll get it for you."

After retrieving the phone, Kaiba handed it to Bakura. When it dropped into his hand, Bakura's expression had changed at that same moment. That was what he had forgotten about. His father. The phone call. The rejection. He had remembered that when he woke up but he had been distracted by Kaiba and had forgotten. Bakura could see there were missed calls but the phone, its screen finally turned on after days on the floor, gave up and powered down. Its battery was dead.

Bakura felt himself become numb. The emotions of that moment when reaching out to his father and being rejected had returned in full force. Kaiba's rejection of him in the hallway. His nightmares and the nightmares before that returned to the forefront. The plea for help that had fallen on dead ears laughed at him.

Kaiba was fascinated as he watched the glassy-eyed expression he had found Bakura with originally returning to his countenance. Then, a cold fear settled into him when he realized what was happening. He was going to do it again. He was going to fall into whatever coma it was that he had found him. Kaiba launched himself onto the bed and straddled Bakura's waist. Pulling the man up by the robe he had wrapped him in, Kaiba reared his arm back and slapped Bakura across the face with as much force as he could. Bakura's head snapped to the side with the force of the blow. At that moment, the door to the room burst open and Minato shrieked as Mokuba cried out in surprise and Kaiba yelled at Bakura.

"Mother!"

"Seto! What are you doing!"

"Bakura, wake up! Don't you fucking dare do this again!"

Turning his head back to look at Kaiba, the shape of Kaiba's open hand reddening on his face, Bakura began to laugh. Kaiba let him go at the same time that Mokuba rushed into the room and tackled him off the bed, the two brothers landing on the other side in a mess of arms and legs. Minato collapsed in the door frame. Above the cacophony, Bakura continued to laugh at the absurdity of it all.


	16. Don't Let Go

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

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Except for the shrill laughter coming from Bakura, no one else made a further move or sound. Minato, the poor maid, silently trembled in the doorway. Mokuba was on top of Kaiba; his body half-turned to stare at Bakura in shock with a fist aimed toward his older brother. Kaiba was pinned on the ground by Mokuba, and his hands were curled around his younger brother's shirt, ready to toss him over. Bakura remained in the bed, laughing so hard that tears began to fall down his cheeks.

Eyes flickered from one another and then all eyes rested on Bakura, the source of the entire thread. He was the only one that was not frozen like a statue. For his part, he was flung back into a large pile of pillows that did little to differentiate him from their white oblong shapes. It was his mouth and tongue that revealed a splash of color amid the white and gray scheme.

"Master Bakura." It was Minato who finally spoke first, her voice timid and unsure. "Are you still dead?"

Bakura lifted his finger for a moment, and then dropped his hands back to his sides as he pealed with more laughter. Kaiba let go of Mokuba and let his head fall onto the ground with a soft thud. He stared at the ceiling as he lightly shook his head. Confusion in his blue-violet eyes, Mokuba hesitantly dropped his arm from its aggressive position toward his brother and stood up.

Neatly flinging his arms back and then his legs forward, Kaiba flipped himself into a standing position next to Mokuba. Without a word to his sibling, he turned and positioned himself at the head of the bed, leaning against the polished ebony banister. If it were not for the fact that his clothes were still damp, completely rumpled, and his hair a complete mess, Kaiba would have looked the epitome of complete casualness regardless of the surrounding events. The pose, however, did little to discourage the questions from the newcomers.

"What's going on?" Mokuba asked quietly with a suspicious tone creeping into his voice. He was reconsidering Minato's story as being outlandish.

Kaiba shrugged. Bakura had quieted. Mokuba frowned.

"Did anyone think that maybe someone should call a doctor?" Mokuba's question was more an accusation than query. Observing Bakura, he noted that the man who had already been very slender when he last saw him now was sickeningly skinny.

"I can handle Bakura's needs." It was Kaiba who spoke. His tone was low, almost feral.

Mokuba looked up at his brother, surprised at his statement and its tone. It took him a moment to remember, but Kaiba was acting a lot like he acted whenever he was ill or had been somehow hurt due to whatever his brother would decide was the result of his negligence. He would have to find out what it was Kaiba did to Bakura, but that would wait until later. Minato's assumption that Kaiba had killed Bakura also added to his decision that something was not right between the pair. Digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone, Mokuba punched a number while Kaiba continued to glare at him.

"Kioshi? We need your help. Can you call the family doctor out to the house? Yes. Right away. Send him to Bakura's room. Thanks." He clicked it shut.

Walking around the other side, he noticed that Minato was still in the doorway. Mokuba sighed. The entire house would end up knowing about this situation if she chose not keep her mouth shut. Redirecting himself, he instead went over to the maid and pulled her back up to her feet.

"Bakura is alive, see?" Mokuba said to her with a smile.

Minato nodded. She seemed hesitant to believe her eyes.

"And he and my brother, I'm sure, have a valid explanation for everything that has happened these last five days."

Minato asked him, "Everyone is OK?"

It was almost sad how wistful and hopeful her expression was. She was very much like a little girl in a woman's body. Mokuba decided he might ask about her later and to make sure she did not spread this among the staff.

"Yes, and it is very important you tell no one of what has happened. People tend to exaggerate stories and it could cause trouble." He paused. "It would be very bad to tell anyone else."

"But... Mother and Grandmother know that Master Bakura has been sick. Minato begged them for help. Minato doesn't want to lie."

He gave her an open smile, or rather one he hoped was open. "You can tell them that Bakura is better now and there is nothing to worry about any longer."

Minato didn't want to question Master Mokuba, but she was still scared she might somehow be in trouble for her part by being a witness to the whole ordeal. Her voice trembled when she spoke next. "Minato isn't in trouble, right?"

"No, you're not. I will take care of everything."

"Thank you, Master Mokuba!"

Surprising Mokuba, Minato launched herself and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. He tried to figure out what he said that made her so happy while he tentatively patted the maid on her head.

"Okay... you can let go, Minato. Why don't you… um... run along and find something to do in the house." Mokuba gently pushed her away from him.

Minato's eyes brightened suddenly. "Miso and rice for Master Kaiba!"

Kaiba gave a gruff laugh in the background. Mokuba ignored him and prayed his brother would do nothing to upset the delicate balance that he had achieved with Minato. This was for his brother's sake, not his.

"Don't worry about that right now. We need to wait for the doctor." He hoped that would be enough reason. Mokuba wanted her out of the room before the doctor arrived. "You should go find your Mother."

She nodded. Mokuba breathed a sigh of relief. Then, she tip-toed to look over his shoulder and called out to Bakura, "Minato is glad Master Bakura is not dead and that Master Kaiba did not kill him!"

He didn't need to turn around to know that his brother would be preparing to launch into some tirade against the poor maid for that careless, but innocent, statement. At the same time, Mokuba heard more of that insane laughter bubbling from Bakura. Before she could end up here longer than he wanted, Mokuba turned her around and gently directed her out the door.

"Go find your mother, Minato. I will check on you later." He then closed the door before he could hear her response.

Shrugging, Minato skipped down the hall. She was content to know that everything would be fine and that Master Mokuba was going to take care of it all. At the same time, Mokuba turned around to face his brother who had moved from his position of idleness to the end of the bed with a quirked eyebrow and his arms clasped across his chest. Mokuba sighed to himself and decided that skipping school today was probably one of his more ill-formed ideas.

"What's with you and the staff, Mokuba?" Kaiba insinuated.

"What's with you and Bakura, Seto?" Mokuba shot back. He was annoyed and meant for it just to be a jab, but when Bakura suddenly quieted and Kaiba just stood there he had to admit that surprised him more than anything else. He actually felt himself blink in shock.

Walking over to the couch in the living room area of the suite, Kaiba dropped himself onto the leather surface. The sight of his brother with his appearance in such a disarray also bothered Mokuba, and he asked him, "And why are your clothes all messed up, too? It looks like you were stuck in the rain or something."

Kaiba ignored his question. "When did Kioshi say the doctor would get here?"

"He didn't. They'll come up when he arrives." Mokuba strode over to his brother and looked down at him. "You're avoiding my questions."

When Kaiba's eyes flashed dangerously, Mokuba knew that his quip was no longer idle. Instead of an answer, he received sarcasm and an accusation from his older brother.

"And you are avoiding mine. What is it with you and that little maid? I didn't know you had started sleeping with the staff."

"What?"

Smiling like a cat, Kaiba was exhilarated that he had goaded Mokuba into anger. This way, he might stop digging for pesky answers he didn't need. It was a low method, but he could not let his brother find out about what had happened between him and Bakura. Mokuba had a tendency to not stop questioning and putting his nose where it did not belong. Besides, there was no need for answers since in time there would be nothing to discuss.

"She is cute. Yes." Kaiba pressed a finger to his lower lip, as if trying to remember a kiss. "Although, if you are that hard up for female companionship are there not more honorable means of obtaining it than stooping to forcing our household staff to supply you?"

A hot blush of ire had fanned itself across Mokuba's face. He was seething inside. Kaiba had twisted everything within the space of a minute to take the pressure off of himself and throw false insinuations on him. He could feel his fists clinching at his sides. At the moment, his tongue was caught as he tried to choose his next words carefully.

"Kaiba, stop it." It was Bakura's voice, and it fell upon the brothers' spat like a bucket of cold water. He had been silent during the entire exchange, and now he had the attention of both of them.

"Bakura, this is none of your business," Kaiba stood up, brushing past Mokuba, and turned to face the man in the bed.

He was so tired and just wanted them to stop. Bakura put his hands together into a small steeple. "Mokuba, please leave."

"I'm not-"

Looking up from his fingertips, Bakura fixed Mokuba with a sad, doe-eyed stare, "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. I'm sorry, but I need you to leave."

"I'm the one who invited you here. I should be the one to make sure you are not going to be slapped around by my brother again. It is my duty as a host."

"Mokuba, this is my house and I am the one who accepted-" Kaiba cut into Mokuba's little speech.

"Both of you shut-up." Bakura's voice was suddenly sharp, and it interrupted them. "You should not be the way you are to each other. Would if I could still have my sibling in my life..." He closed his eyes and turned his head away. Now was not the time to think of Amane. "Just leave, Mokuba. You are antagonizing the situation. Send the doctor up when he gets here, come back then if you want, but right now, just get out of my room."

Bakura didn't want to see the hurt expression he knew would be on Mokuba's face. The teen really did mean well and he was obviously worried about him. Plus, Mokuba was right, if it had not been for him interceding on his behalf, he would have been out on the streets. But, at this moment, he needed to talk to Kaiba alone. Mokuba's initial question had echoed his own. It was a demon he didn't want to face, but for the sake of those currently around him and himself, he needed to face it. He heard the door open and shut when Mokuba left and the sound Kaiba's footsteps coming to stand by his side.

"What is 'with' you and me, Kaiba?" There. He said it. It wasn't so hard, but then why did he feel he was standing on a chasm ready to tumble in depending on the answer he got from the other man.

Kaiba was silent. He didn't have an answer. He didn't think he could give an answer that wouldn't turn out to be some snide remark. The heat from the earlier exchange still had his hackles raised, and his tongue was too sharp right now to give any good answers. For some reason, at least he told himself it was some unknown reason, he did not want to lash out at the snowy man in front of him. Instead, he sat on the bed next to Bakura without saying a word.

Turning his head to look at Kaiba, Bakura continued. Although now, his voice had become shaky, mimicking the beat of his heart. "Why did you kiss me? Why were you happy for me to be alive after..."

There it was. His voice finally caught on that memory. Bakura could see it clearly again. He could feel himself falling from Kaiba's arms to land upon the ground like so much discarded trash. It was so confusing. There was too much happening in such a short space of time, he could barely even take a moment to try to comprehend it. A feeling of being dissected bubbled to the surface of his emotions.

"Why do you even care?"

This came out raw, painfully and with a tear, from Bakura's throat. He knew he was being uncharacteristically bold in his questions, but after the last known day that he'd had, he figured he had nothing left to lose. His father's cruelty came back to his thoughts as a contrast to the current Kaiba he had been experiencing and a similarity to the one he generally knew.

Remaining silent, Kaiba continued to sit next to Bakura on the bed. He was close enough that he could feel his body heat and the shivers running under his skin. These questions that Bakura was asking him required answers that were far too complex for him to examine at the moment. On one side of the coin, he had intended to remain in control by exploring this attraction with a certain amount of detachment so he could later discard it. Yet, right now, hearing Bakura's voice like this and knowing without asking that the other man was in a great deal of emotional pain was bothering him deep inside. It was like the same emotion he had felt when he thought him dead.

"Please..." Bakura could hear the begging in his own voice. He just needed an answer. Anything. Tears started falling from his eyes. He wanted to make them go away, he felt so womanish when he cried, but they would not listen to his will and continued to fall of their own volition.

Turning slightly, Kaiba looked at Bakura. He could see him with his hands clinched together in his lap. Part of him wanted to sneer at Bakura for acting so weak, but the part of him that wanted to soothe him won out as he found his hand cupping his cheek and turning him to face him. Gently, like he was touching fine porcelain, Kaiba moved forward and began to kiss Bakura's tears from his cheeks.

Bakura placed his hands against Kaiba's chest and lightly tried to push him away. Instead, he felt Kaiba's other hand reach around and pull him closer. More tears flowed the more Kaiba kissed his cheeks. He stopped trying to push away and let Kaiba continue doing what he was doing, even though it was torturing him with every touch.

Kaiba pulled away, genuinely looking concerned. "What can I do to get you to stop crying?"

"I... I don't know." Another wave came.

They were salty and bitter, filled with the memories of hurt from all points of the last few days. Even the person who was holding him had been a source of a great deal of that suffering. He wanted to scream at Kaiba and make him go away. But right now, he was scared that he would. He didn't want to be alone. He really didn't want Kaiba to leave.

A sudden thought manifested in Kaiba's mind that his only solution for anything to do with Bakura seemed to involve him kissing him. Before he could find himself considering that, he shifted his face just enough so his lips could find the other man's.

Unlike the kisses from before, this one was infinitely gentle. Bakura could feel Kaiba's thumb wiping away the tears from the side cupping his face, but he realized he could taste two different types of tears on his lips. He felt his lips open to catch them, and Kaiba matched him movement for movement with agonizing kindness. Instead of pushing him away, Bakura instead wrapped his arms around him and pulled Kaiba forward against his body as he burrowed his back deeper into the pillows.

Kaiba followed the movement, still kissing Bakura and not stopping his relentless assault of tenderness, until his body was resting on top of his. Again, the sensation of a finding a fitting for a puzzle piece came and was ignored. Then, the kisses moved from soft touches to deeper presses as their lips parted against each others and tongues tentatively met. He idly ran his fingers through the silk of Bakura's hair.

It was a comforting sensation to feel the weight of Kaiba's body crushing into his. Bakura sighed into the kiss as he ran his fingers over the rough material of Kaiba's rumpled suit. He could feel the sharp angles of Kaiba's hips digging into his inner thighs, and he raised his knees to relieve the pressure without thinking about what he was doing. Kaiba stopped kissing Bakura at that moment, his breath catching with the sudden sensation of Bakura's thighs pressing on either side of his waist.

Bakura blushed and tried to disentangle himself from Kaiba but was stopped. One of Kaiba's hands had found its way underneath the upraised sheet and blanket to caress along his bare outer thigh. He trembled from the slow caress of Kaiba's roughened fingertips; being a Duelist champion had toughened the pads of his fingers much like a musician's. Bakura could feel himself becoming turgid due to the slow trace of those fingers.

Enjoying what he could feel he was doing to Bakura, Kaiba felt spurred onward and he continued to swirl concentric circles along the smooth flesh of Bakura's leg. His mind tried to force him to think about what he was doing, but he had effectively shut down that portion and just kept doing what he was doing. Right now, he wanted to hear Bakura moan and feel his heat through his skin. He wanted to know that he could do something that might be right. Never mind that Bakura had been in a coma for five days. Never mind that they could be caught at any moment. He wanted to finish what they had started all those days ago.

The caresses were driving him mad Bakura thought as he suddenly ground himself upward against Kaiba. He could feel that Kaiba was feeling the same way as he was. A pressure was growing deep inside that he thought might be the cause of his death if it was never released. It was like he was some sort of feline in heat the way he was acting and pressing against Kaiba. Bakura felt shameless and shameful at the same time. His nails caught themselves against the nape of Kaiba's neck and he scratched down along the flesh there. Kaiba responded in kind by scratching along his thigh, and he could feel him smiling against his lips.

Kaiba let go of Bakura's hair and used that arm to prop himself upward above his body. He could feel him surging toward him when he pulled his chest away. It gave him a heady feeling. Stopping the caresses on Bakura's thigh, Kaiba used that hand to pull the coverings away from Bakura's chest and to open the robe, revealing the smooth pale skin. Kaiba broke the kiss to look down, and it was strange and desirable to him at the same time. Bakura's skin was level and flawless, the ridges of his muscles visible where his flesh was pulled tight against him. He could see the blue tracery of veins and the rose-color of his small, flat nipples that were peaked with small beads that were incredibly hard looking where they stood out against the very white skin.

Feeling heat blossoming on his face again, Bakura released his hold on Kaiba to try to cover himself again, but Kaiba used the free hand to bat him away as he shook his head.

"Let me look at you..." Kaiba murmured.

"But... it's... shameful..."

He laughed, unbidden. "Define shame."

Pulling Bakura's covering hand away from him and clasping the wrist above his hand with his own hand, Kaiba bent himself over Bakura's chest and blew a slow breath over the skin until he could see goosebumps form.

"Is this shameful?" He asked Bakura.

Bakura nodded his head. "Yes."

Raining kisses over where he had breathed, Kaiba nipped and licked the salty skin. His chin rubbing along with a harder pressure.

He spoke again, this time his words muffled by Bakura's chest, "And this?"

Wanting to run away but unable to do so since he was caught beneath Kaiba, Bakura could feel himself shaking all over. Yes, he was going to die. This would be his death. It felt so good, and it was wrong. It had to be wrong. Nothing ever felt this good and could not be wrong. His mind wanted to scream at himself for what he was doing with Kaiba. For what he was letting Kaiba do to him. And he wanted it all the more.

"Y-y-yes..."

Kaiba brought his seeking lips over to one of those fascinatingly hard beads and swirled his tongue around it. He could feel his own grin as he felt it peak higher. Such a tiny pebble, and yet, he knew what his ministrations to it were doing to Bakura beneath him. He was shaking and breathing so fast, it was like his whole body was being shocked and that Kaiba had become an electrical current

Moving from the first one to the second, Kaiba whispered to Bakura, "And is this shameful?"

This time Bakura could not answer. He could only moan as he shook his head yes. One hand was digging into the back of Kaiba's head, pushing him against him harder now, and the other was trapped at the wrist where it was busy clenching and unclenching itself.

Kaiba pressed his lower body harder into Bakura's, feeling the other man's back arching against him. Bakura's legs were fighting themselves to not wrap around his waist. He released the hand that he had held caught and slid his fingertips along Bakura's arm and down along his ribs. From there, he dipped his hand between their bodies, moving downward until it was wedged firmly in between and he could feel the tip of his erection. As his nails brushed over it, capturing a wet drop of desire seeping from it, Bakura surged against him and cried out. It was a combination of need and pain, desire and fear. Kaiba felt driven crazy for it as he wrapped his hand firmly around Bakura's swollen cock.

"And this, Ryou, is this... is this shameful?" He tugged at it and stared down at Bakura with glowing sapphire eyes.

He could only moan now, but Kaiba wanted an answer. He needed an answer from him. He tugged again as his thumb rubbed over the glans.

Bakura was trying to answer, really he was, but it was so hard to formulate words. Finally, he was able to breath out, "Yes."

Kaiba brought his face closer to Bakura's, stealing his breath with intake of his own. Their lips were close enough to kiss again, and he stared into Bakura's passion-filled brown eyes. They had become so dark as to almost be black.

Smirking slightly, Kaiba said, his voice stronger this time, "What do you want me to do?"

He gave him a slight twist with his hand as he rubbed along the shaft, watching Bakura's eyes try to roll up into his head. Kaiba brought his lips to Bakura's ear where he give it a soft lick before continuing. "You have to tell me what you want me to do."

Why he wanted to do this to Bakura, to force him to admit his shameful wants, Kaiba hadn't figured out the why but he knew that's what he wanted. It drove him into a deeper frenzy to know that he was pushing Bakura over his limits and to see that blush of desire infusing his skin with shades of pink need. Why he had taken him from such softness with kisses to this, it was something better left for thought another day.

Drawing his hands back to cup either side of Kaiba's face, Bakura forced himself to try to get control of his senses but he was utterly failing at the task. It took a few mental tries to even get his limbs to follow his commands. Finally, he controlled his breathing and could feel Kaiba's touching him even more strongly than through his prior haze. He adjusted himself so his legs were now locking Kaiba against him.

"Don't let go," Bakura finally said. "Please, don't let go. Not again-"

His last words were cut off when Kaiba stole another kiss from him. It seared him as Kaiba's tongue wrapped around his and forced his mind to give up the thoughts of that painful night that now seemed so long ago. Bakura could feel Kaiba pumping his hand over him, and it was so different than those times when he had touched himself. It was stronger, surer, and was driving him to a height that was making him absolutely dizzy. At the same time, he could feel Kaiba grinding harder against him, just below where his hand was busy driving him insane. This, too, compounded the pleasure and he longed to rip away the restricting cloths preventing them from a full flesh-to-flesh touch.

Kaiba was happy enough to oblige him as he continued to kiss him above and pull him below. He felt it when Bakura's legs wrapped around his. Afternoon sunlight warmed his back but was not the source for the sweat that dotted his forehead. Kaiba could feel himself about ready to explode from where he was rubbing himself against Bakura. It was going to be all too quick for them both he thought.

"Kaiba! I'm-" Bakura implored.

Shaking his head, Kaiba kissed him again. While he continued, he pulled back long enough to look Bakura in the eyes. He huffed, "Ryou... my name is... Seto."

Bakura whimpered as he felt himself building up to an impossible pressure under Kaiba's hand. He was going to make a mess. It couldn't be helped. And now, Kaiba had given him his name. He was floating and tethered at the same moment. And then another throb deep inside pushed through him as he felt himself about to release.

"Seto!"

That was enough for Kaiba. He jerked Bakura once, twice, and a third time and felt him spurt over his hand while at the same moment he felt himself explode in his slacks. He collapsed on top of Bakura, his breathing ragged.

Looking up at the ceiling, Bakura tried to connect the dots that had led to this moment and failed at it. He could feel Kaiba breathing hard against his throat, and at the same time, it felt so good. Bakura wanted to kiss his forehead, so he twisted himself enough under Kaiba to allow him access. Every so often his body would jerk when Kaiba would stroke along the length of his fading erection. It was a sweet torture, and at the same time he could feel his own stickiness against his pelvis rapidly cooling. A scent unlike musk and bleach filled his nostrils.

Kaiba removed his hand from Bakura and pushed himself up to gaze at him. His features were sharp, androgynous, and with the shaft of sunlight streaming over them, infinitely beautiful. At this moment in time, a tender Kaiba was allowed to emerge and he gave Bakura a soft smile that was empty of guile and bitterness. On a primal level, Bakura knew he was witnessing something that few, if anyone else, had ever witnessed.

Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted them from their after-glow. Both looked at each other with fear as they quickly broke apart. Within moments, Kaiba had wiped his hands and adjusted himself so the wetness on his pants would not be easily seen. Bakura had also wiped away the remnants of his release with the robe he was wearing and readjusted the bedding. There was nothing else they could do since the door was now opening, and both of them flushed at the thought of nearly being caught.


	17. Damaged Goods

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

**A/N: Sorry it has been awhile. I've been very, very, very busy with work and home life that it left very little time to write stories. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you. **

* * *

Following Kioshi, an old white-haired man stepped into the room. He was dressed head-to-toe in black and wore a sweeping trench coat, even on a late summer's day such as this one. Years at patients' bedsides had given him a hunched back, and he walked as if he were in some sort of pain. In his right hand was a black medical bag, and the other held a cane that he supported himself with as he made each step. Behind him, Mokuba maintained his vigil and glanced at his brother and Bakura to ascertain no further harm had come to their now semi-permanent guest.

"Is this the patient?" The doctor's attention was on Bakura, who remained in the bed and stared at his clasped hands. A faint blush still reddened his cheeks.

Kaiba silently nodded to the doctor, answering for Bakura. He casually leaned against an armchair with his hands in his slack's pockets.

"Doctor Sato, I think he has been ill for five days," Mokuba said. He bravado from earlier had faded and now concern crept into his voice. He was truly worried for Bakura and hoped that what had happened would not cause lasting damage.

"Five days? Normally, that is not a cause to call me out to your home for a simple sickness." Even though the doctor was acting annoyed with being brought to the house, his eyes were darting over the bruises on Bakura's pale skin and the jutting bones just beneath. He notated to himself that the young man looked starved and beaten.

Fidgeting, Bakura was not answering any questions on his behalf. He wondered if his eyes would replay for any who looked the events of the minutes before when Kaiba had his hands on him. Almost like he could read his thoughts, Bakura heard the rough, ruined silk of Kaiba's suit being adjusted by the man himself. He blanched and kept staring at his hands. Self-consciously, he licked his dry lips.

Coughing to distract himself from watching Bakura, Kaiba filled in the details for him without leaving his stance nearby. "I entered the room using the master key. Bakura was unconscious. I can only assume he had been unconscious the entire time we had presumed that he was missing."

Doctor Sato pulled out a stethoscope from his bag and a blood pressure cuff. Ignoring Kaiba, the old man pointedly asked Bakura, "And young man, were you unconscious until Mister Kaiba found you?"

"Y-yes, I think so," Bakura's voice came out slightly high-pitched and strained.

"And how did you wake up?" The doctor was genuinely surprised. It seemed unusual to him that Bakura would have been in a coma and spontaneously woke up at home.

Bakura felt the urge to squirm from the question. He could remember the water falling on him and being in Kaiba's arms. Those kisses had rained upon him just like the shower's droplets. Kisses from Kaiba. A flush was beginning to spread across his face as his thoughts moved from the kisses to the touches.

"He wouldn't remember," Kaiba interceded on Bakura's behalf as he noticed Bakura's distress, his voice carrying across to the doctor, "because I was the one to wake him up. I picked him up from his bed and took him into the shower. The water caused him to snap out of whatever state he was in."

Kaiba purposely did not fill in the additional details that involved him needing for Bakura to come back, or the fact he could not resist kissing him when he saw him wake up, or how he had decided to touch him the way he wanted. Those details were better off unsaid, and if anyone noticed the faintest twitch of his pinky, they said nothing. Otherwise, his face remained blank and emotionless.

The rough sound of velcro being separated on the blood pressure cuff overlaid the doctor's voice as he replied, "Why did you not call an ambulance or for me instead? Do you not realize you could have killed him by merit of shocking his system too much?"

Two dots of color stood out against Kaiba's cheeks as he took in what the doctor said. "No."

It was now Mokuba's chance to be triumphant over his brother, but it was hallow and empty. He felt weighed down by the doctor's words. His brother, with his usual isolationist attitude, could have killed Bakura all because he could not ask for help like a sane person would have. It was him who had refused to even look for Bakura when it was brought up that he was missing. He looked from his brother to Bakura and felt sadness for his pale friend. In a way, it was his fault because he had insisted on him staying with them, Mokuba thought to himself.

"Arm please, Mister Bakura."

Air pumped into the cuff that tightly wrapped itself around Bakura's arm. He tried not to cringe when he felt the cold metal of the stethoscope pressed against the inside of his elbow. He hated the pinching sensation and fought to keep himself from complaining. It was made worse by the sound of his own blood roaring through his ears. He was still trying to bring together the comments the doctor had made about him possibly dying. Maybe that is what had occurred he thought to himself. It would explain everything that had happened since he had been pulled from the shower.

"Hmmm... Your blood pressure is dangerously low."

Parting Bakura's robe, Doctor Sato frowned once again when he observed the faded yellow bruises decorating his chest as he placed the chest-piece of his stethoscope over Bakura's heart to listen to the beat.

"Your pulse is racing, and it is unsteady as well. Reedy." He pulled away and placed a hand over Bakura's forehead. "Your temperature is also slightly elevated."

Kaiba suddenly coughed again and Mokuba glared at him for interrupting the doctor. The younger brother currently remained a small distance away, not too far from where Kioshi was maintaining his stance by the door.

"Mister Bakura, you may have an infection along with the malnutrition you have suffered during your presumed coma state. This coma also could have affected your heart and other parts of your bodily systems."

Now, Bakura looked up at the doctor. Heart. That did not sound very good to him. He could feel the cold of the chest-piece as the doctor adjusted it and made him take deep breaths. Doctor Sato's eyes were hooded and flat. They revealed nothing except the words he said.

"Your lungs may have some fluid in them as well."

Another press against his chest.

"I am fairly certain that we will need to examine your heart. There is a skip."

A skip, in his heart beat, Bakura thought. Could this have been a result of his orgasm at Kaiba's hands or a result of when he was comatose?

"Doctor," Kaiba interjected, his voice was sharper than normal and demanding, "while you are busy making astute observations that are only causing conjectures of doom for my brother and our guest, can you please explain what is it that you are finding other than these half-remarks."

Stepping back from Bakura, the doctor patted his hand reassuringly, and turned to face Kaiba. "Whatever has happened to this young man may have caused lasting and permanent damage to his heart. In addition, he is suffering from an infection that has settled into his lungs. It could be a variant of pneumonia, and certainly not aided when he was put into a shower."

Bakura could see Kaiba's fists suddenly clinch and he bit his lip while looking away. At the same moment, Mokuba had noticed the same and raised an eyebrow in his brother's direction. Both knew that Kaiba never took well to having anything he did being corrected, regardless of the subject matter.

"Are you sure? A few presses of your stethoscope could not so easily tell you that these are the issues at hand."

Obviously, this doctor had served the family before as he initially ignored Kaiba. He carefully packed away his tools into his black bag and pulled out a cellular phone. It was old and clunky, a piece from a decade ago. Finally, he answered the young businessman. "There are no certainties, even with my years of experience and medical knowledge. That is why the patient must go to the hospital immediately."

"What?"

Mokuba went to quickly intercept his brother before he could get directly in front of the doctor and start his tirade. Whatever had gotten into Kaiba was exacerbating his usual annoyance with medical personal. However, his attempt to intervene was quickly stifled by Bakura.

"Thank you for trying to help me, Kaiba," Bakura's voice was soft, almost feathery, with just a hint of weakness. He turned his head to face the other man, his dark eyes locking onto Kaiba's. "I will go to the hospital with the doctor."

Kaiba's movements were stopped so suddenly by Bakura's voice that it surprised everyone in the room.

"You don't have to go," Kaiba insisted.

He gave him a weak smile. "I do. I trust the doctor is trying to help."

Secretly, Bakura was scared to death. Sometimes, late at night, he wanted to die but now, he felt the urge to fight and try to at least survive a little better. The thought that he could have something wrong with his heart was causing him to tremble inside, but he was keeping that fear swallowed. Later, he would let himself feel it but right now he had to keep calm. What if he made it worse if he let himself be scared?

Frowning, Kaiba wanted to stop him from going to the hospital. It was asinine he thought to himself for him to be worried like this over some person; worse still to have some sort of emotion. He glanced at Mokuba. Yes, he thought to himself, at the hospital he had received his brother but in exchange, he had lost his mother. He shook his head, how could he even make a similar connection with Bakura regardless of what he had done earlier.

While the two had been lost in thought, preparations were already put into place by Doctor Sato. "The ambulance will be here shortly to transport Mister Bakura to the hospital."

"Well, then," Kaiba snapped his head up and looked around, it was like he had just awakened. "I leave you to it, Mokuba, to see to all the arrangements."

At that, Kaiba turned away from Bakura without any goodbyes and stalked out of the room. For a split second, Bakura had attempted to move his hand to reach for him but then just as quickly left it where it was. Mokuba, on the other hand, made a stronger attempt as he tried to follow his brother but the door slamming shut in his face was enough of a deterrent.

"He always has to be like that!" Mokuba exclaimed, frustrated. Realizing that Doctor Sato was in the room still, he blushed from publicly venting like that. Coughing, Mokuba attempted to regain his control. "Kioshi, could you see to it to pack a bag of clothes for Bakura? He'll also need personal items for his stay."

Bakura looked around. He felt like a small child being directed. Everyone was near and yet they were far from him. When he watched Kaiba leave like he did, especially after what had happened, it had hurt him but at the same time it had felt oddly distant. He was working hard to keep himself from revealing his and Kaiba's secret liaison to the others in the room but fortunately, like the child he likened himself to, he was being ignored.

Lying back against the dove-colored pillows, he stared at the ceiling and sighed. A scent, like that of daisies filled his senses and he smiled to himself. All the stresses, the discovery in the shower, the upheavals brought upon by Kaiba, everything, fell from him at that moment he allowed himself to relax. Sighing once more, the barest whisper, Bakura closed his eyes.

Mokuba had been standing at the nightstand gathering little odds and ends that might entertain Bakura during his hospital stay. They were a couple of magazines and notebooks that looked like journals scattered on the surface, and he had gathered them in a simple pile. Hearing the soft sigh from Bakura, he had turned around to ask if he needed anything and felt a curious prickling sensation on the back of his neck. Every hair suddenly stood on end.

"Bakura?"

He reached out to touch him; a shaking hand that couldn't belong to him Mokuba thought, and found no resistance. It was like Bakura had stopped breathing.

"Bakura?" Mokuba called out.

Seeing no movement from Bakura's chest, Mokuba whipped around. "Doctor Sato! Something's wrong with Bakura! I think he stopped breathing!"

Running to the other side of the bed, Doctor Sato reached across and felt for a pulse. He slapped the wrist and checked again. Staring into Mokuba's fear-filled violet-blue eyes, he said in a very calm and demanding tone, "I need you to start chest compressions while I breathe for him. Do you know how to perform CPR?"

Mokuba nodded. It had been one of those things he had picked up over the last summer. It was surreal watching Doctor Sato lifting Bakura's head back and breathing into his mouth. Then, he was the one pressing against the frail chest. He didn't want to break Bakura, but he was concerned that he was pushing too hard. He felt better when Doctor Sato gave him a quick nod.

In the interim, Kioshi had been summoned by the arrival of the ambulance and had run to bring the newly arrived medical staff into Bakura's room. Kaiba was sitting on the white leather sofa in the living area with a clear view of the pathway, unaware of what was happening in just down the hallway. He was mildly amused to see the workers running rapidly with the gurney toward the rooms. Still angry and annoyed at the entire situation, he returned his attention to the cards he was shuffling through. He tuned out the medical workers' radios and voices and missed that they were talking about Bakura having gone into possible cardiac arrest.

"Quickly now, clear the way for the paddles, Mokuba," Doctor Sato commanded as the first worker ran in carrying a hard plastic case.

A button was flipped and Mokuba could hear the electric whine as the paddles charged up. The defibrillator's case was now open and he could see the little dials and other circuitry that made it up. If it had not been real life, it could have been almost fascinating. Instead, he was feeling nauseous and ill as he watched Doctor Sato rip Bakura's robe wide open. No one commented on the old bruises that covered his friend's chest, instead, they too busy to notice as they were preparing to slam the square cream-colored discs on him. With little fanfare, the stoic faced stranger pressed the paddles at a diagonal on Bakura and in response, Bakura's entire body jumped from the jolt of electricity. His head lolled at a terrible angle. Mokuba winced.

Doctor Sato checked Bakura's pulse. "Again."

Once more, Bakura's body jumped from the shock but this time there was a change. He took in a deep breath, even though he remained unconscious. Doctor Sato was pulling his eyelids up and shining a light into the pupils.

"Doctor Sir," the technician with the defibrillator said, "the gurney is here. We haven't any time to lose to get him to the hospital."

"Yes, yes." Doctor Sato looked at Mokuba to urge him to move.

Mokuba stepped back to allow the gurney access to Bakura. He was lifted from the bed and strapped into place with well-practiced hands. In moments, Doctor Sato, Bakura, and the ambulance staff had exited the room. He could only stand there staring into space. Kioshi handed him a drink of something that burned his throat, but he was in too much shock to notice what it was.

Meanwhile, when the flurry of activity reached Kaiba again and he picked up what they were saying, he had jumped to his feet. Before he could reach the group at the door, Bakura had been loaded into the ambulance and bright lights flipped on to lead the way from the mansion and into the city streets.

As he stood there, several members of the household staff had come outside to find out what was happening. Usually, they kept to themselves, but this had been a particularly exciting day. Everyone was curious about what had happened to Bakura and to validate Minato's story. She was the one at the forefront of the group.

Nervously, she approached the master of the house. "Master Kaiba," she swallowed; her throat suddenly dry, "what happened to Master Bakura?"

Without giving her a chance to defend herself, Kaiba reared his arm back and slapped the girl across her face with enough force to knock her to the ground. Looking up with tears in her eyes and mute with surprise, she couldn't understand that what she had done was bring to light his own inadequacies in the matter. He had no idea what had just happened in his own house or with the man he had thought he had saved. Kaiba could only glare down in response to her unspoken whys.

Finally, ignoring the whispers of the staff, he stalked back inside the house. He made his way to Mokuba who was the last one remaining in Bakura's room. His little brother was completely still and continued to stare down at the bed sheets.

"What just happened?" Kaiba demanded.

Mokuba whispered, "He stopped breathing. I pressed his chest. And then they shocked him to make him breathe."

In the ambulance, Bakura opened his eyes for a moment. A clear plastic face mask was over his mouth and he could taste the extra oxygenated air being pumped to him. He stared at the various implements for medical assistance hanging along the walls in neat drawers. Over him, two people worked to insert needles and run an intravenous drip into his arm.

"Damaged..." He whispered to himself before losing consciousness once more.


	18. Requiem Preludes

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

* * *

"What do you mean he stopped breathing?" Kaiba asked. He was pacing in front of Mokuba, his fingers twitching and inside his mind, he was raging at the not knowing and not being in control of the situation.

Mokuba took a long time to answer; slowly inhaling and exhaling as if the words would find their way to his tongue. His eyes were constantly drawn to the way the setting sun was bathing the bed like an altar to old gods. Red-orange light that could have been blood or fire was tinting everything in the room. It was hellish. A moment fit for Dante and crowded by memories that fought with one another. His fingertips twined against one another, like he was desperately fighting against a bird cage entrapping him.

"He just stopped."

Kaiba ran his hands through his brunette hair and yanked on it in frustration. "Of course he stopped. He _stopped_ breathing. Why the fuck did he stop breathing is what I'm asking you."

In reply, a small shrug. Violet eyes, almost black in the dying light, continued to stare forward, their irises constricted. Mokuba kept replaying in his mind how he shook inside with each press against Bakura's chest and that if he failed in that task, the friend he had taken in would be dead because of him. The weight of life nearly lost was crushing him. He felt like it was he who couldn't breathe.

"I have to leave." Mokuba finally said.

Turning away and avoiding his brother's white-hot rage at his lack of answer, Mokuba walked toward the exit of the room like a zombie. His feet barely left the carpet as he shuffled like an old man; his focus on the doorway. It was stifling in here, he kept thinking to himself, and the air was too heavy. It was pressing down on his lungs with each breath, and he had to escape it. Let Kaiba remain here to soak in these horrible memories. He, on the other hand, would be free of it; if only for a moment.

He could hear his brother coming toward him; those heavy footsteps brought him out of his self-induced guilt enough to remember what had led to these events. This was, in a way, the stubborn ass' fault that Bakura was in the hospital. Ever since they came here; it had been like this. Kaiba was always insisting on being in charge of every little detail, and when their adopted father committed suicide, it had become even worse. As his hand touched the coolness of the door handle, he could feel the heavy memories of the past lifting away and returning to the lockboxes buried deep in his soul.

However, instead of exiting, he stopped his forward momentum. With his long black locks hiding his face, he remained unmoving in front of the door. Kaiba had stopped following him at the same time. Mokuba could sense that they were a mere meter apart from one another. Swallowing, he finally spoke as he stared at his sneakers. "Seto, you could have killed him."

Kaiba paused. The older brother wanted to quip back that his little brother was being over-dramatic, but when he parted his lips to let loose his venom, nothing came. Instead, his fingers subtly twitched just beneath the wrinkled cuffs of blue silk and linen. Cufflinks caught the light, and Mokuba could see their crystalline reflection at his feet. Kaiba was definitely a meter or so behind him.

"If he dies, Big Brother," he murmured, "It will be your fault. Why do you have to put people in danger because of your stubbornness?"

"Stubbornness? Is that what you call it, Mokuba?" Kaiba swallowed. He could feel his Adam's apple against the collar of his shirt. He tried to focus on his physical movements, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath of tainted air and the feel of his ruined clothing against his skin. Anything to distract himself from the tornado called guilt that was trying to currently trying to destroy his carefully ordered mind.

Mokuba shrugged. "What would you call it, if that?"

"I call it a refusal to accept what others would insist that I believe. I am no sheep, like some, and I would like you to show me proof that what I have done at all has been wrong. I have done…"

Kaiba halted midsentence. The memory of a crack shattering the courtyard and the feel of his hand as it collided with innocent flesh had just reminded him otherwise. He could still see the pair of hurt and tear-filled eyes staring up from his feet because their owner had the gall to ask him what others would have deemed a simple question.

"I have done nothing wrong to you or Bakura." Kaiba continued instead.

"Nothing wrong?" Mokuba lifted his head up, but he still did not turn around to face his brother. "If you had listened to me, or anyone in this house for that matter, we might have found Bakura days ago."

"When did we become his keepers, Mokuba?" Kaiba sighed.

That was one of the million-yen questions. He himself could not understand why he felt the conflicting need to protect Bakura. It was probably sometime between those moments when he was wanting to kiss the white-haired vixen until he begged for Kaiba to fuck him or kill him, and on the same token shove Bakura away for putting such thoughts in his mind; regardless if Bakura had meant to or not. However, these were things that one did not admit, let alone talk, to their little brothers. At the moment, Kaiba was urgently convincing himself that all those crazy thoughts he had in the shower were simply a result of stress and mixed-up desire.

Mokuba replied, interrupting Kaiba's internal conflict. "Is the idea of any human decency that repelling to you?"

The brunette chuckled. "Human decency?" he asked. "What an amusing concept, but I thought the concern here was Bakura and how I am suddenly at fault for everything that has happened to him."

Mokuba raised his eyebrow. He wanted to turn around and face his brother, to find out where such an odd comment had come from. That was not the point of this conversation. It was simply about the fact that his brother had ignored the situation until it had become critical. "I didn't say that. I just…"

"No? Then how is any of this my fault? Tell me that." Kaiba knew he was deflecting to push the guilt inside of him onto someone else. "Bakura was free to come and go as he pleased. He had private access to his room, did he not? And access to any means to leave these grounds whenever he liked."

Faltering, Mokuba whispered, "But we could have at least checked in…"

"And break protocol? Invade his space?"

"Isn't that what you finally did?" Mokuba cried out in response. He knew his brother was playing some game with him. He could feel it. Mokuba had sat in on enough meetings at his brother's corporation to know when he was turning the tables on someone. Unfortunately, it was Kaiba's talent.

"Only because we had a maid who kept constantly sitting at his door like some stray kitten looking for a dish of milk," Kaiba sneered, "The one that's your pet."

Kaiba had always known Mokuba had a soft spot for the servants. While he saw them as nothing more than paid tools to keep his world orderly, his little brother saw them as some type of friend. Kaiba had been annoyed on more than one occasion by Mokuba's defense of the hired help. They were like many of the employees he had fired over the years; incompetent and lazy, as most people were, and only a step above disloyal mercenaries. They were bought and paid for to do what he wanted and nothing more. It was one of the growing differences between the pair as Mokuba had grown older.

"What?" Mokuba could feel the blood rushing to his face. Kaiba could hear the younger man's voice catch, and he knew he had scored a mark. It seemed his little brother might be harboring a softer than usual spot for this particular trollop.

"What was her name? Mina, Miné, Mi-"

"Minato."

Feeling triumphant over the deflecting and change in the argument, Kaiba felt himself grin. "Ah! Yes, that one. I should fire her."

Mokuba clinched his fists at his sides. He knew Kaiba was trying to goad him, and he knew he would fall into this trap because he was not going to be able to stay silent. He snapped back, "You'll do no such thing. She didn't do anything wrong."

"Do I need a reason? This is my house. I can fire anyone I decide to fire." Kaiba paused. "Maybe, I'll sleep on it. Perhaps, if in the morning, I'll reconsider. Then again…"

He let the implicit threat hang on the air for Mokuba to fill in as he saw fit.

It was on days like this that Mokuba felt keen pain where his brother resided in his heart. He spoke aloud those thoughts at the forefront. "When did our adopted father cut out your heart?"

Kaiba's stepped back, and Mokuba knew he had finally scored a desperately needed hit. It was still a shallow and empty victory. Who knew how his brother might respond in the upcoming days to his statement about Gozaburo. Anything about their adopted stepfather usually set his brother on edge, and the rage that followed almost invariably involved someone's life being ruined, whether or not it was the original target Kaiba was angry with. Mokuba suddenly tried not to think too hard on the families that probably became destitute because of the random spats the two brothers had over the years.

Without a further word, Mokuba quickly exited the room and took in great gulps of the cooler air of the hallway. Leaning forward with his palms on his thighs, he inhaled fast and deep, like he had been running a marathon in the ubiquitously innocent-seeming bedroom. Finally, the hot tears he had been holding back fell down his cheeks, and he half-heartedly wiped them away with the back of his hands. He knew, without a doubt, if he had cried in that room that his brother would have dug even deeper at him to avoid his own part in this tragedy.

Mokuba shook his head to clear it and decided that perhaps a cup of tea might make him feel better as he awaited news from the hospital. In addition, take his thoughts away from his brother. A light grumble also spoke up and he silently cursed his always hungry body. As he made his way toward the kitchen, he realized that the entire house was hushed. Normal chatter, very common in such a largely staffed home, was muted and almost non-existent. However, the sibilant whispers followed his every move. Panic tried to set in as he thought maybe they heard something about Bakura that had not made it up to the room when the brothers were arguing.

In the kitchen, the chef was working frantically with his assistants to put the finishing touches to an overly elaborate meal of what appeared to be all his brother's favorite dishes. Mokuba raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he made his way to the collection of tea kettles. They clanked together as he selected one.

"Oh no! Master Mokuba, please, allow us to tend to your needs," one of the assistants cried out. She looked like she was scared.

He was taken aback by this sudden need for service. All the staff knew that he was rather self-sufficient and that he never needed such tasks taken care of for him.

"I can handle making ocha myself."

"No, we will be most happy and grateful if you would allow us to prepare your tea." The smile was forced; it looked like it would crack her face. The rest of the staff had stopped in their preparations. Mokuba did not like this. "Please, go into the dining room and we will bring you a tea service."

Trying not to be antagonizing to the kitchen staff, he nodded and left. As he entered the dining room, he noticed the maids would stop for a moment and begin to frantically clean whatever they were standing by. He could taste the metallic tang of fear in the air. It reminded him of the one time he had been at the corporation offices when his brother laid off an entire department that had been faltering to produce a profitable appliance.

"_This will also send a message," Kaiba said coolly from the balcony overlooking the lobby, his blue eyes were hard dots that stared through the people walking out with their office possessions in a single white box, "to all the other departments that this company will never support failures."_

"_Never become involved in those who would bring you down, Mokuba. They will stain this family and our lives. It is better to cut them away. Everyone wants a handout because at their core, everyone is lazy and expects that someone else will pay their way. Greedy… worthless… they are nothing but thieves in the end."_

_Turning away from the balcony, they returned to the penthouse offices at the top of the glittering glass Kaiba Corporation tower to have a casual lunch. Not another word was said about the layoff. _

A butler was waiting for him when he entered the dining room and pulled his chair out for him. The sound of the chair scraping against the floor pulled him from his memory, and Mokuba sat down. When he turned his head to ask something; the man had already left after completing this duty. Instead, in his place, was a young woman who held a decanter of water and filled the waiting glass in front of him.

"Miss," he said, trying to smile even though he could see fear in her eyes, "could you tell me what happened to Bakura when he left?"

Mokuba was surprised to see the woman suddenly grip the carafe in her hands tightly. She looked away from him; the pupils in her hazel eyes were wide with her fear. He could not understand it. Mokuba had joked with her in the past, even though her name escaped him at the moment. She had a lovely smile and a ready blush.

"He-he..." She was having a hard time of speaking. He wanted to encourage her and for some reason, he felt the urge to give her a hug. Something was very wrong. "He was loaded into the ambulance without incident."

"Are you sure?" Mokuba asked. He didn't want to say she was lying, but it was obvious he was not getting the whole truth.

Her mouth worked as she struggled to find the words to answer him, and with a clattering sound of china and silver, the tea service arrived. The maid looked completely relieved that someone else would be serving him, and she could escape his questions.

Those who hadn't seen had heard about what Kaiba had done to Minato after Bakura left in the ambulance, and she would never hurt even a fly and was completely guileless. However, Kaiba's temper and cruelty was well-known. Usually, the staff never had to witness it as much as those in corporation did, but they read the morning newspaper. Therefore, if he was angry and on the rampage, it was best to be as perfect and obliging to all the masters of the house as was humanly possible and a bit beyond. They were all scared that he that in his anger he might start blindly dismissing them from service.

Bowing, the girl left in a hurry. Mokuba heard from beyond the sound of shattering glass and a quick cry that was just as swiftly suppressed. More whispers came. He had started to rise from his chair when a cough from the newcomer stopped him. It was Kioshi that had brought the service. He knew that the butler would give him the answers he needed.

"Kioshi, do you know why is everyone scared? What is wrong with the staff? What happened to Bakura?"

Without answering him, Kioshi placed small plates that each held a different type of wagashi. Mokuba noticed that these were all his favorite flavors. Matcha was measured into a cup and hot water poured over it. As he stirred the powder, Kioshi answered.

"I will answer your questions in the reverse, young master."

Mokuba nodded. Finally answers.

"Master Bakura was loaded into the ambulance without further incidents to him."

The sound of the bamboo whisk in the water was soothing as it supplied a much needed distraction to the otherwise deathly still atmosphere of the dining room.

"As you already surmised, the staff is scared. And finally, we, even I, are afraid of Master Kaiba right now and what he might do next as he has been a bit more erratic than usual."

Kioshi presented the tea to Mokuba. It was perfectly blended and without fault. Mokuba did not want to further interrupt the presentation, so he picked up an anemone-shaped rakugan that had been dyed a delicate pink with his ivory chopsticks. The subtle sweetness of the mizuame in the cake burst upon his tongue which he paired with a sip of the tea.

Giving a contented murmur, and while he normally did not indulge his tea in such a way as this presentation presented, he had to admit it was a nice change to all the happenings of the day. It also served as a way to bring him down from his own nervous state. The only thing ruining it was that he was now going to have to find out what his brother did to set the staff on edge.

"What did my brother do?"

Pausing, the butler carefully rearranged the hot water kettle and plates on the cart, before he answered. "He struck one of the maids hard enough to cause her to fall."

Mokuba gasped. His brother was cruel, very cruel, but rarely did he resort to physical violence as his response. It was his words that were his greatest weapon and his ability to skillfully apply other means to wound his enemies. He knew that his brother delighted in the slow and painful application of revenge and that he thought physically assaulting someone was a quick and foolish method.

He asked, "Why did he strike her?"

"She asked about Master Bakura."

One maid came immediately to his mind, but he asked Kioshi anyway, "Which maid?"

The older man shrugged. "It was Minato."

Mokuba looked down at his hands. These hands were made of the same flesh as his brother's. Yet, he had not struck anyone with them in years. Once, a long time ago when he was full of the same anger and hate as his brother, he might have been inclined to strike out at those around him. But now, he had mellowed over the years and made friends, real friends. Poor Minato was a victim of circumstance when she spoke to the wrong brother.

"Where is she?"

Kioshi kept his face impassive, but Mokuba knew his question surprised him. "She is with her mother in the laundry room."

Standing up, Mokuba nodded his thanks and walked as quickly as he could toward the laundry. He was sure when Kaiba found out what he was doing, he would hear no end to how his bleeding heart was weakening them. That was their primary difference; Mokuba thought to himself, his heart was like the water and ever-flowing now. He could move with the world. His brother's, however, was like stone. One day, all the chips at it were going to make it shatter. What would Kaiba have then?

"Nothing," Mokuba muttered under his breath.

Scanning along the open doors, he could see household staff members halting with polishing and cleaning all the accumulative markers of their wealth. It angered him. Collections of items, gathered on whims or because it was the current fad, and then left forgotten but should they ever be even slightly dusty, his brother would fall into a rage over it. Sometimes, even if he loved his brother, he wished Kaiba was someone else. He really wished his brother was the brother he knew before the fairytale was shattered.

Perhaps that was why he was so insistent on Bakura coming to stay with them. Instead of finding that companionship he craved, that friend had fallen ill and almost died in their house. To add to the sins, Kaiba could have done something about it sooner, but his damnable attitude prevented it and he was just as terrible by allowing it to go on. No more.

His palm slapped against the final door in the hallway and pushed the door open with enough force to cause the occupants to jump. Behind Mokuba, maids were peeping out of their workrooms. All were curious as to what the younger Kaiba brother was doing.

Mokuba was taken aback by what he saw when his eyes fell on Minato. She cringed when she saw him. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. Minato's mother grasped her hands that were on her lap, the woman's apron was wet with her daughter's tears. But it wasn't the sight of the tears that shocked him. It was the large purple, hand-shaped bruise on the younger woman's cheek. His brother might as well have punched her.

He fell to his knees next to her and bowed his head to floor, his long black hair brushing her knees where she was sitting. "Minato, please accept my humblest apologies for what has been done to you."

"Ma-ma-master Mo-"

"No." He shook his head, not leaving his position as he stared at the cracks in the tile where his nose was pressed. "No, I am no master in this house. If I was, this would have never happened."

Mokuba felt his hands tighten into fists. "My brother had no right to hurt you, Minato. Name whatever you would desire, and I will do my utmost to see your wish is granted. I am your servant to repay the injustice that has been done to you."

"Mother?" Minato was confused and turned to her mother for guidance. Masters were not supposed to be humiliating themselves at the feet of servants. These sorts of things only happened in storybooks or the movies Grandmother sometimes watched, or fairytales. Her heart began to beat faster.

"Minato," her mother said, her voice even despite her own confusion of the display of humility from one of their employers, "Thank Master Mokuba for his generosity and that you forgive his brother because the fault was your own."

"Madame," Mokuba spoke, his voice muffled, "but I respectfully disagree. I do not feel Minato is deserving of such treatment. If it were not for her, a man might have died, alone in his room, in this house."

Ignoring Mokuba, Minato's mother raised her eyebrow toward her daughter and tightened her grip on Minato's hands in her lap. She gave her an urging look, determined to keep the boundaries.

"Mi-minato thanks Ma-ma-master Mokuba for his generosity. And Minato takes the blame for asking about Ma-master Bakura. Ma-ma-ma…" She shivered. No one had ever struck her before. It had hurt, and it had made her so scared. Tears fell from her eyes again and she could feel them dripping from her chin. She was very confused by the hurt she was experiencing emotionally and that her mother was directing her as she was.

"Go on," her mother urged.

Turning her face away from Mokuba and her mother, Minato finally said in a small, trembling voice, "Master Kaiba was in his right."

Mokuba felt when her tears fell. They landed on his fists near his head. Prostrate before her, his desire to make amends had been thwarted by her mother. He couldn't understand it. Wouldn't her mother desire for her daughter to be done right by? His brother's actions had been terribly wrong, and yet, they were going to allow them. Minato was bruised. He didn't just idly slap the maid. Mokuba seethed. He wanted to shake her mother for making her accept the blame.

"Master Mokuba." It was Kioshi's voice, and it brought him out from his internal monologue. "There is a phone call for you."

Rising back up on his knees, Mokuba tried to look Minato in the eye, but she kept her face away. Her mother was equally evading his gaze. His eyes fell to the Kaiba crest that adorned their uniforms. He sighed and opened his mouth. He wanted to tell them they were being foolish. That the fault was his brother's and solely his brother's and they should not accept such abuse.

Kioshi interrupted him before he could speak, "It is from the hospital."

Mokuba quickly stood from his position. "Is it about Bakura?"

"Presumably, young master"

He turned to follow Kioshi from the small room and paused at the doorway. He touched the frame lightly and felt the urge to turn around, but he decided it would not change a thing. Mokuba endeavored that he would find a way to speak to Minato alone, without the presence of the old guard, to force her to accept what he knew had to be wrong. With this vow in his mind, he left without a further word.

Walking down the hallway, he could hear her crying again from beyond the now closed door and a small part inside of him wanted to cry with her. They were both bound in chains. He, in a way, was controlled by his brother and she controlled by the will of her mother, and the love of family was the steel that bound them both to their jailors. For a brief moment, he toyed with running away and taking her with him. It didn't matter that technically she was older than he, he could keep her safe. He had accounts that his brother had no idea about.

"Sir?" Kioshi had stopped and was giving him an odd, yet concerned look. It was as if he disapproved of his earlier behavior but was too well-trained to say otherwise.

Mokuba then realized he started laughing at loud at his racing thoughts and coughed. "I apologize, Kioshi. I am not myself today. The day has been long and stressful."

"Of course, Master Mokuba"

Mokuba followed him out of the service quarters and through the kitchen once again. They arrived in the living room and an old-fashioned golden telephone waited for him. It was an anachronism in an otherwise clean and modern environment. He picked it up and pressed a button on its keypad, bringing the call online.

"Yes, this is Mokuba Kaiba."

Meanwhile, still in Bakura's room and still seething over his little brother's words, Kaiba had noticed when the incoming call had come in and waited, curious if the call would be brought to his attention. The little red light had winked at him for ten minutes with very little change. Now, it had become solid. Perturbed that he had not been notified, Kaiba picked up the phone and pressed the button. He was instantly patched into the line.

"Hello, Mister Kaiba, this is Nurse Nakamura. I was calling to give your household a status update on Mister Bakura." She paused.

Kaiba had to catch himself and hold his breath when he realized that Mokuba was the one to pick up the line.

Mokuba gripped the fluted receiver with both hands. "Yes, is he okay? Is he conscious?"

"He… He has not regained consciousness yet. However, we were…" She paused. Both brothers could hear the discomfort in her voice. "We wanted to know if anyone had attacked or harmed him. There are various bruises on his body, and while it does seem, thus far at the injection sites, that he bruises very easily we are concerned if his malady was not externally related."

Closing his eyes as he placed his hand on the receiver, Kaiba exhaled slowly. Some of those marks were surely from him and his treatment of Bakura at different times. Anger snaked through his veins as he thought about what had passed between them, his own reactions that had brought harm, but instead of those taking forefront another emotion was winding its way in. Jealousy. Betrayal. The household staff had decided on their own that his brother was the better one to bring news of Bakura. They were all insidiously blaming him for these events.

Regardless of truth or not, Kaiba was rapidly building up his righteous fury. He easily ignored the small voice that was trying to be heard under the pulse of his racing blood. So be it, he would take himself to the hospital. His brother, the staff, and anyone else could be damned for all he cared. Bakura was his responsibility. Was he not the one that woke him up? But you could have killed him, the little voice whispered. He shook his head. Another voice wrapped around him, were you not the one to send him to that place. Heat infused his cheeks at the self-berate, and he bit his lip to bring himself back into focus. Kaiba then laughed softly at himself. Such doubts were not like him and he tossed them away as easily as they came.

Ignoring the rest of the conversation, Kaiba carefully replaced the receiver and walked quickly out of Bakura's room and into his own. There, he yanked out a black suit and a crisp white shirt and stripped out his ruined clothing and into the new. He grabbed his phone and wallet and shoved them into his pockets. With a final flick, he adjusted his hair and was striding down the hallway within minutes as he flipped open his phone.

"Yes, Garage. Bring my car around immediately if you value your job," he barked the order into the cell phone and closed it.

Mokuba was still on the main phone, now transferred to billing personnel, when his eyes caught sight of his brother entering the living room.

"The Kaiba family will cover all expenses." Mokuba's voice trailed as he watched his brother slip on his leather loafers. "Excuse me a moment."

Before Mokuba could get to him, Kaiba had flung open the doors and let himself out, refusing to wait for any staff to attend him. Outside, in front of his white convertible, was one of the garage staff. Without a word, he held up his hand and the other man tossed the keys into it. It was an old and practiced gesture. In his characteristic smooth grace, Kaiba slid into the waiting driver's seat and closed the door while simultaneously pressing the accelerator.

"Big brother, wait!" Mokuba ran out after Kaiba in his socked feet. His response was the squeal of tires as Kaiba peeled out of the driveway.

Sensing Kioshi behind him, Mokuba turned to face the family butler. "Where do you think he went?"

The older man frowned and shrugged. "Who can know what your brother does some days?" He diplomatically responded with a question of his own.

Upholstery humming against his legs from the power of the motor vehicle's engine, Kaiba grinned. He loved the feel of this particular car when he drove it across the freeways into the metropolis. It softly growled as he pressed down on the accelerator, and the needle rose sharply in response. It took an experienced touch to handle a car like this. It was his favorite. This was the only car like it in the world, created by his company. Every line and curve inside and out was designed to cater to his tastes. Sleek and powerful, it prowled over streets.

Street lights flickered overhead of him and increased in number as he entered the core of the Tokyo region. Kaiba estimated that he was a scant fifteen minutes from the hospital. He would take charge of this situation and redeem it. That will show the rest that he was much more capable than they were giving him credit for. In addition, deep inside, a part of him was genuinely concerned for Bakura. Kaiba wanted to see with his own eyes if his condition was better now that he was at the hospital.

A ringing noise interrupted his thoughts. Pressing his thumb over a switch on his steering wheel, the car answered his phone.

"What is it?" Kaiba snarled. He wasn't expecting any calls from the office at this time.

Responding rapidly was one of his negotiation brokers. "Sir, the American company, Wizards of the Games, is trying to back out of the deal for the new stock items!"

In response to the man, Kaiba slammed the brakes of his car and swerved through traffic to halt at the side of the road. "What did you say?" he raged.

"Sir, they are claiming they are receiving a better offer from Xing-Xang Corporation in Shanghai."

Kaiba's pupils constricted to pinpricks. Xing-Xang was trying to build itself up as direct competition for his Duel Disk technology and if possible, supplant his market share of Duel Monsters gaming.

"Have you threatened releasing the pictures from our meeting at the house?"

On the other end there was a pause and then response, "Not yet, Sir."

Thumping his fingers against the wheel, and ignoring the occasional honk of a horn from the vehicles moving around him, Kaiba's mind raced as he tried to figure out what he should do next. He knew he needed to see Bakura, but now that this had happened, it put a kink in everything. He almost wondered that some sort of god was trying to punish him lately. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before. He began to laugh mirthlessly at himself.

"Sir?"

Maybe he should contact Yugi and ask him what sort of crap he was stirring up now. Didn't they just get back from Egypt from such metaphysical bullshit? Years, Kaiba had enjoyed years of relative quite away from the drama of Yugi, and the other Yugi, and the rest of their friends. He heeds one letter and now his entire life and sexuality was in upheaval ever since. His head made an audible thump as he let it fall against the steering wheel.

"Sir, what should we do?"

"Damn it…" Kaiba finally growled.

The voice tried not to be tentative but Kaiba could still hear it, "Sir, will you be coming into the office to deal with this matter?

He hesitated. For the briefest moment, he wanted to tell them to just leave him alone. Then, he shook his head. What was wrong with him, he wondered.

"Get the videos together, get every bit of data for any personal connection those assholes at Wizards have and be prepared for my arrival. I will be at Kaiba Tower in ten minutes. No one fucking messes with me"

"Yes, Sir!"

Sheep, the whole lot of them, Kaiba thought to himself as the other man hung up the line. And here he was like some damned shepherd. It made no sense. He whipped the car into gear and flew across the lanes, ignoring the squeal of others trying to avoid hitting him, to change his direction away from the hospital and toward his offices instead. Tears of frustration trickled from his eyes. Kaiba ignored them.

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_Author's Note: Thank you for your extreme patience for me to start updating this story again. Life is certainly crazy for me! The last year has been especially difficult as my duties with family and work increased. However, I am currently looking to purchase my first home with a space for me to write and relax... just for me. I'm excited. This basically ends Part I of the story, Part II will start off several weeks later. I hope you enjoy..._


	19. Reconnections

**Disclaimer**  
**This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.**

_**Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )**_

**This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.**

_A/N: I felt bad about being delayed and rewriting the chapter. I hope this came out OK. I didn't do my normal rereads (x3) and edits..._

* * *

Snuggled under a mound of fluffy white blankets, Bakura peeked from between a crack that gave him just enough space to see the room. His chocolate eyes scanned the semi-institutional hospital room that he had stayed in for the last six weeks. Then, flash of yellow suddenly caught his gaze, and Bakura groaned as he whipped the covers from him and sat up. Somehow, yet again, he had missed whoever it had been delivering a fresh daisy to his room every day since he arrived at the Kaiba family owned hospital.

Falling back against his pillows, Bakura sighed. It had been a strange time for him the moment he woke up and realized what had happened to him. Doctors and nurses had explained his condition with him and laid out why he would be staying so long at the hospital. At first, he had been very scared. His nightmares had returned in full force, and he would wake up screaming and in fright on a daily and nightly basis. Sometimes he would even see that corrupted mirror image of himself at the foot of his bed, and it would be giving him that malevolent grin. He was petrified that the staff would think him insane if he told them the full extent of what was happening to him. However, the nightmares were enough for him to also be prescribed medications for what they termed anxiety.

Regardless of what the staff were doing for him, Bakura felt that it was Mokuba who actually saved his sanity in those first weeks. Mokuba was the one who notified all their friends. Yugi and Rebecca, Jonouchi and Mai, Shizuka and Honda, even Otogi and Yugi's grandfather, Sugoroku, regularly visited him as a result of Mokuba's calls. He had felt so lost and alone after his family's abandonment, certain that he was worthless, and then, over time and through their many visits that filled his days, he found reconnections he had missed and needed. Mokuba and the maid, who had helped find him, Minato, also visited him frequently. With the loss of his blood family, he discovered that he still had a family; his family of friends.

However, there was one person that never visited the entire time he had been there. Kaiba. There was not one phone call, note, or even a card. Turning over to stare at the rising sun through his window, Bakura stared at the rays so they could burn Kaiba's face from his memory. He was confused about his feelings for the harsh CEO. It was through his decision that Bakura had the best of care and anything he wanted, he was certain of this, but why did he not check on his wellbeing. Biting his lip, he tried to banish from his thoughts the searing touches that he could still clearly remember.

It was Mai that Bakura had finally told all this confusion to one day when she was visiting him. They had been playing Duel Monsters the old way, without Duel Disks. Perhaps it was because she was slightly older than him that made him feel drawn to her advice. However, he thought it was the pain he could see behind her smile that really encouraged him to finally ask for her advice.

_"Mai…" Bakura stammered, his hand hesitating to place his card down. _

_ Giving him a sweet smile, the blonde replied, "What is it, Bakura?"_

_ He sighed and set his cards down next to him. Shaking his head, he lowered it so that his white bangs could hide his features from her gaze. He had this insane thought that if she could see his eyes, all his secrets would be revealed. _

_ "Bakura," she paused for moment, "if you have anything you want to talk to me about, you can. I won't share it with anyone, even Jonouchi." _

_ Invading her friend's space, she placed her neatly manicured hand over his trembling one and gave it a light squeeze. Bakura tightly closed his eyes, but it did not stop the tears that dripped down his cheeks and chin. He could hear a rustle as Mai moved and plucked a tissue from a nearby box. She dabbed at his tears._

_ "There, there… no need to cry, little brother." _

_ He liked when she called him that, it made him feel like he really did have a big sister that he could hold on to in moments like this. _

_ "Mai, have you ever felt for someone and couldn't tell them how you felt because … they confused you terribly?"_

_ She chuckled. "Is this what these tears are for?"_

_ He mutely nodded._

_ "Do you remember years ago when many of us first met? Did you ever think Jonouchi and I would be where we are now?"_

_ Bakura laughed. "No. Jonouchi was somewhat immature then and well… you were rather distant with yourself. A bit tsundere."_

_ She laughed, and her voice was musical to his ears. "Yes, that is a good approximation of me during that time."_

_ Squeezing his hand again, Mai sobered in her tone. "I'm not sure when I started to have feelings for Jonouchi. Maybe sometime after that bit with Jean-Claude, but it was before we had that terrible duel…" Shaking her head to clear her mind of that memory of darker times, she continued. "Regardless, I knew I had developed feelings for this impetuous and loyal man several years my junior."_

_ He couldn't help his smile and finally lifted his head up to look Mai in the eyes. Bakura could see unshed tears shining there as she remembered those times for his behalf. Now, it was him pulling a tissue and handing it to her. She returned the smile and laughed as she dabbed at her eyes._

_ "I was scared. I had made many mistakes and had done things that were horrible to me, regardless of the why. I had to reevaluate myself and what my intentions were. I needed to find that dueling spirit I had lost before I could even feel I could reconnect with Jonouchi."_

_ Mai reached over and took a sip of water. She took a steadying breath._

_ "When I felt ready, and after taking care of a few necessary things, I reached out back to Jonouchi. I didn't think he would see me, or that he would even want to see me. But when we reconnected, I knew it was time."_

_ She gave Bakura an encouraging smile. "I told Jonouchi how I felt. I didn't hold back. And it worked out from there."_

_ Shifting a bit at the end of his bed, Mai gave Bakura an impish smile. "So, now that my story is done, and maybe a lesson learned, who is this lucky girl that you are obviously crushing on?"_

_ Bakura blushed, the red stark against his pale cheeks. He whispered softly, "My crush… isn't a girl."_

_ One of Mai's eyebrows rose, confused for a second, and then her violet eyes widened. "Oh… oh!" she exclaimed._

_ Playing with her fingers, Mai recovered from her initial shock, "I guess I can't say I'm terribly surprised. So… who is the lucky guy?"_

_ Looking down, Bakura was quiet for a long time before he could gather the courage to say the name that haunted his heart. "Seto Kaiba."_

_ Mai laughed lightly. "Kaiba, huh? And I thought I was a difficult…"_

Pulling at a stray thread, Bakura remembered the conversation as clearly as if it had been moments ago. Mai's ultimate advice to him was that he needed to talk to Kaiba. She also included a forewarning that if Kaiba wasn't interested in him, regardless of all those strange and intense moments, that he should not blame himself. He was also supposed to call her as soon as he could after said conversation because she wanted to know the results.

A soft knock pulled Bakura back to the present moment. Calling out to whoever was there to come in, an orderly dressed in a pink uniform entered his room carrying his breakfast tray.

"Good morning, Bakura. How are you today?" She smiled at him brightly, her wispy black hair framing her face.

"I'm good, and I'm very excited."

The orderly moved a cart over to his bed and set the tray down on it. "I heard! You're going to be finally discharged. I bet you are happy to be getting on with your life once again."

He nodded. It did feel good to be finally leaving the hospital. His room was wonderful, but it was still a hospital.

"Oh, someone called this morning and told us these were your favorites." She lifted the lid to the covered plate, revealing an assortment of cream puffs.

He glanced over at the daisy, maybe the same caller had been the one delivering the daisy. "Miss, do you know who called?"

She shook her head. "No, I didn't take the call."

"Thanks, I was just curious."

"Well, enjoy your breakfast, and I am glad that you get to go home today." The orderly gave him another dazzling smile and left him to his meal.

Bakura picked up one of the delicate puffs and popped it in his mouth, savoring the sweet taste as he pondered who the one to order the cream puffs was and who was delivering the daisy each day. It was the flower that always made him think of Amane.

Hours later, about mid-morning, the doctors came to visit Bakura. The one who had been directing his care was sitting next to his bed carefully going over his medications and future regimen. It made him feel a bit like an old man as he listened to him.

"As you know, after the extensive tests during your first weeks here, we concluded that you entered a state of inedia as a result of a minimal conscious state, or rather a light coma. From the discussions with psychology, this stemmed from the current state of your family. However, because of how quickly you were awakened, your heart sustained moderate damage, and hence your tenure here."

Bakura nodded, these were not new pieces of information. More pages were flipped in the chart the doctor held as his voiced droned on, Bakura half-listened.

"We have prescribed for your nightmares and anxiety the medication Paxil. You will also need to take ubiquinone to support your heart."

He knew he was to eat better, exercise and not to overextend himself for the time being. Bakura knew he had to communicate with his school to make sure he was not too far behind. Mokuba had told him that everything had been handled, but he couldn't help being concerned.

"Do you have any questions, Bakura?"

"Uh… no, no questions," Bakura stammered, he had missed much of what the doctor had explained.

A sheaf of papers was handled to him, and he stamped his seal on them acknowledging he understood what he had been diagnosed with and his method of treatment. He was ready to leave the hospital. It had seemed that his attitude had changed over the course of the morning and now, Bakura was feeling impatient to be outside on the streets of metropolis and wandering through the wards.

The doctors left him and he fidgeted as he began to remove the hospital shift he had worn the night before and dressed himself in the clothing Mokuba had brought to him a week ago. He selected a simple outfit of jeans and a dark blue, button-down shirt. Bakura smiled as he slipped his feet into a pair of slippers and checked that his sneakers were in the bag he would take out with him. Other than the gifts of flowers from his friends, he had very little else that he would need to take with him when he left.

Lunchtime came and went, and then a nurse came in to let him know that the Kaiba family had been notified of his impending release and that they would be sending a car for him in the next hour or so. He couldn't help the giant grin that plastered itself on his face to know that soon he would be leaving.

Quickly, Bakura gathered gifts and items that he had collected during his stay and placed them into his bags, making sure they were stacked carefully so nothing was crushed. He could hear the ticking of the clock as time wound down to the hour of his leaving. Around two o'clock, he started pacing and gave up, choosing to sit on the ledge of his room's large picture window that overlooked the hospital grounds below.

It was here, as the afternoon's bright fall sunshine bathed, that he gazed around below. He watched people walking back and forth, sitting at benches, and all appearing like small ants. In his fingers, he was been twirling the last daisy he had received and humming songs. A knock semi-interrupted his reverie, but he was used to the constant attention from the staff so he simply called out that he was there and continued to stare at the green spaces below.

Opening the door and closing it behind him, Seto Kaiba entered the hospital suite. It was the first time he had stepped in this room. Knowing ahead of time that Bakura was to be discharged today, he had intercepted the call that had come to the mansion and arrived himself. He was dressed in one of his business suits, and he nervously readjusted his silk tie.

When he looked up from his leather shoes to seek out Bakura, he saw him sitting in the window. Afternoon sunlight streamed through his white hair and created a bright halo around his body. Kaiba could see that the time in the hospital had been good for him. Bakura's body was no longer painfully skinny and had fleshed out nicely. In addition, his hair had grown longer and lusher during his time away from the mansion. Those moments of assessment told Kaiba that the emotions he thought he had come to terms with were not as well controlled as he had thought.

With a suddenly dry mouth, Kaiba coughed lightly. The unfamiliar noise caught Bakura's attention, causing him to turn. Seeing Kaiba, instead of Mokuba, standing there caused him to freeze his motions.

"Seto… I mean… Kaiba," Bakura stammered as he stood in greeting.

Kaiba walked quickly to close the space between them, coming to a sudden stop when there was a scant half-meter remaining. For a second, he felt a pang in his chest for not visiting sooner and clinched his fist in response. Feeling his heart begin to race in his chest, he thought that he may have made a mistake in coming here.

"You look well, Ryou." Kaiba's voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

Bakura had not expected that Kaiba would be the one to take him from the hospital. He could feel himself trembling inside and could not guess the brunette would do next. Focusing on the suit buttons that gleamed in the streaming sunlight, Bakura tried to recall some of the things he and Mai had discussed about Kaiba. She had reminded him that distance did make the heart fonder and he had to be careful that he was not putting too much into what had transpired, yet she still encouraged that he have an honest and open talk with Kaiba about prior events.

"Kai-," Bakura began, but was interrupted.

"Are you ready to leave?" Kaiba asked, the tone in his voice changing like quicksilver.

Feeling confused by the sudden change in Kaiba's eyes, Bakura tried to discern what was in the other man's mind but gave up. He should know, he thought to himself, that it was best to just let it go. He could feel the sudden waves of stress rolling off of Kaiba, and he didn't want to add to it.

It was being in a hospital that was affecting Kaiba. He hated the places. He was over the initial shock of seeing Bakura again after six weeks and now, he just wanted to get away from this place as quickly as he could. Smells from antiseptic cleaning supplies and various medications were assaulting his senses, and he was beginning to feel dizzy from them. A slow headache was also forming at the front of his forehead. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to redirect the pain.

Nodding, Bakura replied, "Yes, I don't have many things to take with me; just a few gifts that I have already packed." He tilted his head toward a neatly packed box at the end of the bed, the daisy the foremost peeking from the top.

A quick nod was the acknowledgement he received as Kaiba turned and retrieved the box. Bakura then followed him out of the room. He smiled weakly at the staff that were telling them goodbye and well-wishing his health. Kaiba was like a stony sentinel in his silence and steady forward gaze. It was almost difficult for the white-haired youth to keep up with the fast pace that Kaiba kept as he lead the way out of the hospital corridors, his only break during the elevator ride, and into the parking garages below.

Fortunately, Kaiba's car was parked nearby when they exited the elevator and Kaiba clicked his key fob to unlock the doors. Adjusting Bakura's box in his arms, he opened the passenger door of the vehicle for him. Still silent, he waited for the other man to adjust himself in the seat before closing the door. Walking around the back, Kaiba popped open the trunk and situated Bakura's things next to his suitcase and a small bag of groceries. With a thud, he closed the trunk and smoothly entered the driver's side of the sleek car.

He could see that Bakura was fidgeting with his hair and ignored the obvious sign of the other man's nervousness as he turned the ignition and drove them out of the garage and into the late afternoon sunshine. Squinting, Kaiba quickly pulled a set of jet-black shades from the center console and covered his eyes.

Exiting from the dark parking garage and into the fullness of the sunshine did not faze Bakura. He was suddenly happy to be leaving the hospital and his prior nervousness with Kaiba vanished like the morning fog. His eyes soaked in every nuance of each tree or person they passed, and the unlit neon of storefronts and restaurant awnings. The rush of new scenery made him feel drunk and like a child entering the world for the first time. A smile cracked on his face, and he leaned forward to not miss anything they drove pass.

"You look happy."

Startled, Bakura turned and faced Kaiba. "Yes, I think I am," he said.

Kaiba nodded, his expression hidden behind the dark shades and lapsed back into silence.

Turning back to the scenery, Bakura occupied himself watching the world swim by as they cruised onto the highways. After some time, he noticed they were travelling north, away from the Domino ward and main Tokyo region.

"Kaiba, where are we going?" Bakura hesitantly queried.

It had seemed the further they traveled that the lines of stress had sharpened around Kaiba. Bakura felt nervous.

"I am sorry that I am taking you with me, but there is business I have to attend to away from the mansion." Kaiba's lips barely moved; his whole body was strung tight.

Trying to make conversation and find out more, Bakura asked, "Does it have to do with the news reports? Is it about that rival company?"

"No, it has nothing to do with that," Kaiba replied.

"Oh, I had thought…" Bakura paused, and then looked down at his betraying fingers as they plucked at a stray blue thread at his wrist.

Curious, Kaiba responded with his own question. "Thought what?"

"I had thought," Bakura swallowed and willed the words, "I had thought that was why you didn't visit me. The news said there was a battle between corporations. That the American company, Wizards something, had backed out of a deal and there were subsequent issues between Kaiba Corporation and Xing-Xang."

Kaiba chuckled. "You surprise me, Bakura. You kept up with the business news about my company?"

"Well… one can only take so many daytime dramas before they just give you headaches," Bakura lightly stated.

"True, true. And yes, that was part of the reason. I had very little time for any activities aside from dealing with the fallout from that particular deal and Xing-Xang trying to make cheap knock-offs of my Duel Disks. I cannot allow such idiocy or repugnantly poor craftsmanship attempt to bring down my own products." Kaiba paused, and then continued, "You saw the report, no doubt, of how I decided to handle that nuisance."

Bakura nodded. According to the reports, the Chinese company had been trying to imitate the style of Kaiba's Duel Disks. The knock-offs were so similar that Kaiba corporation had been fielding calls from unhappy purchasers. In response, Kaiba announced two weeks ago that anyone that had one of these disks could exchange them for an authentic Kaiba Corporation Duel Disk, free of charge. It had caused uproar.

"My board of directors thought me insane, but the surge in our stocks has more than proven my point. Consumers, and myself included, expect the best of products and especially when it comes to the Duel Disk. I worked my whole life to achieve that technology, and I won't have anyone attempt to wrestle it from me; particularly by thieving lowlifes and reneging foreigners."

"Why did the other company, Wizards… I think was the name, back out of a deal with Kaiba Corporation?"

"Wizards of the Games," snorted Kaiba. "They thought too highly of themselves. Disgusting trait."

Bakura waited quietly for Kaiba to continue.

"They wanted more stock and financing than I was willing to give. They also thought they could threaten me with Xing-Xang. However, I could tell that they had already cut a deal because within a week the idiots were shipping out their cheap parts across Japan and America. Basically, they thought they could double-dip and get away with it. My suppliers are all exclusive to Kaiba Corporation, and rightfully so."

Kaiba stopped talking, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Glancing sidelong, his eyes concealed by the dark shades, he regarded Bakura suspiciously. "Why do you want to know about this?"

Looking down again, Bakura replied, "I wanted to understand why you weren't there… at the hospital. And to understand… some of your… responsibilities."

Releasing one of his hands from the wheel, Kaiba rubbed his forehead. He could feel another headache coming. "There was more than just business as to why I didn't go to the hospital."

"Then, why?"

Clinching his teeth, Kaiba noticed a directional sign pointing toward his destination, but he was on the wrong side of the roadway to exit. He quickly grasped the wheel with both hands as he accelerated and swerved across traffic, just barely making the off-ramp. The force of the move had knocked Bakura against his seatbelt and door. Both men were quiet as Kaiba returned to a more sedate speed and turned onto the main road from the highway.

Lightly stuttering, Bakura spoke up again. "I-I-I'm sorry for asking. I won't ask again."

Sighing, Kaiba then snapped at him, "It wasn't anything you did. I almost missed the exit."

"I meant a-about visiting me."

"I didn't visit you because I hate hospitals!" Kaiba yelled.

Shrinking against the leather seat, Bakura wished he was very small right now. He knew that he had just pissed off his apparent benefactor.

Railing on, Kaiba continued, "I hate hospitals with their smug doctors who don't save lives. They let my mother die, they basically murdered my father. They think they are so smart with their charts and potions, but instead they destroyed us. I bought that damn hospital so no one could ever put me in one because I won't be killed like they killed my parents!"

Turning his head for a moment from the road, Kaiba looked at Bakura before returning his attention to the road.

"I'll admit," his voice became calmer, "they seemed to do an okay job with you, but I don't like hospitals. It was hard enough picking you up from one."

Silent once again, Bakura could hear his every breath and heartbeat over the low tones of the orchestra music that Kaiba had been playing. He tried to redirect his attention to the scenery outside the car and noticed they were passing a graveyard. It sent a chill up his spine. Then, he felt Kaiba decelerating and saw that he was turning them into the tombstone bedecked grounds.

"Kaiba, where are you taking me?"

"We're going to the graveyard."

Bakura shivered. Kaiba may hate the hospitals, he thought to himself, but graveyards scared him to death.

* * *

_Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this starting chapter to the second half of the story. The original chapter 19 was much, much different. ^_^; I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out. The house I am trying to buy, well... almost complete, yay! It's a nice first home, very spacious and beautiful. So, I will be super busy moving very, very soon. _


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